The Supers
by musicnotes093
Summary: After the death of his close friend, Dr. Donald Mallard, Gibbs is sent out to Antarctica on a mission to help four people with superhuman abilities escape. Tony•Abby•McGee•Ziva. AU.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: This story is written for an NFA challenge. The title, by the way, may not be the best, but I thought it kind of fits the story. I was thinking of the Fantasticks (which is not mine) when I was trying to come up with a title also. =P So, yeah. Please enjoy!**_

**_Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters do not belong to me. They belong to their rightful owners._**

* * *

_Thousands of feet above Palmer Land, Antarctica_

_Aboard US Navy Fixed-Wing Aircraft_

_5:41 PM_

Gibbs peered out of the small window beside his seat, estimating how much longer the plane needed to travel to reach Ellsworth Mountains. The land below was covered in white from end to end. Every once in a while, the wind that rush past outside were so cold that it almost seemed like smoke.

He opened the small box that rested warmly on his lap, and then took out Donald Mallard's letter. He still didn't know why his friend sent him out to Antarctica, what with the merciless temperature and unpredictable weather. It had been three days since he received the package from Donald's lawyer.

It felt like a nightmare when he was told that the medical examiner died because of an airplane crash. It _was _a nightmare. The lawyer said that he was coming from a volunteering work from France, when the plane he was in collided with the Pyrenees. When they were notified, the lawyer was sent the day after to deliver something for Gibbs, saying that it belonged to him.

And it was all of what Donald had.

Which consisted of two keys inside the small black box and that letter.

With a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, he unfolded the letter again, to make sure that his trip to the frozen land was not just a misunderstanding.

_Jethro._

_I do want to apologize for leaving you all of my belongings. I'm not certain whether you will accept them whole-heartedly or not, but I wish that you try._

_The smaller key is for my house, for the manor. I want you to have it. Every single thing that you wish to have from there. _

_The second key is for my other house in Antarctica. No particular address, I'm afraid. You can travel to Palmer Land and from there, take a plane to Ellsworth mountains. Coordinates 78 __45' S, 85__ W. _

_I know you might be hesitating to go there, but I do want you to. Jethro, there had been many things I haven't told you. There's so many things that I've kept from everyone because I know they wouldn't understand. But you were a good friend, and you were the first person that I thought of who would take care of them. _

_I wrote to you, not to ask you to correct my secrets, but to protect them. They need your help. Days ago, I noticed that someone had been following my every move, and they had been reading all my files. And I'm afraid that because of my stubbornness to keep on my work that I've exposed my children in danger._

_Please. Help them escape._

_Your friend,_

_Donald Mallard_

Gibbs creased his eyebrows pensively. Children. Donald had never mentioned about any children, more so ones living in a deserted mountain. It all sounded impossible, and he wondered if it was all a joke. But then the grave tone of his friend's pleading made him—a part of him—think otherwise.

"We'll be there in a couple of minutes, Agent Gibbs," Arnold Pier, the plane's pilot, bellowed from the cockpit.

"Okay," Gibbs answered, slipping the letter inside the box absent-mindedly.

"Are you sure this is where you're supposed to go?" Pier asked, glancing at the ranges slightly highlighted in the horizon by the orange hue of the setting sun.

"Yeah," Gibbs answered tersely.

As silence settled in again and only the wheezing rumble of the engine echoed from a distance, Gibbs wondered again why he was there. He hoped it wasn't one of those kind of joke wherein a friend convinces another friend to go somewhere, asking him to do something for him. Only to find out in the end that all of it was done just to make the traveler 'realize what life is'. He wished that it wasn't, because that would be one big waste of time.

**………………………………......**

"He's coming."

"Yeah. I can see that, McObvious."

"Tony, leave him alone."

"Do you think he's going to be nice?"

"Well, Ducky chose him. Perhaps he is nice. Relatively."

"Okay. I still don't get why Ducky left us with this guy, this outsider. We can take care of ourselves! This…Gibbs person is old."

"But he can help us. Lead us."

"We have a leader. Me."

"Exactly. That is why we need someone else."

"You think he'll freak out when he finds out what we can, uh, do?"

"The three of us, yes. McTune-in-on-the-radar there, maybe not."

"Hey!"

"What if he's one of those creeps who want to experiment on us?"

"That's easy," Tony smiled. "We take him out."

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**Reviews always welcomed! =D**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Author's Note: I wasn't sure of Gibbs mom's name, so I made it up. =P Other than that, enjoy!_**

**_Disclaimer: NCIS belongs to its proper owners. All I own is the story and the OCs. _**

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_Ellsworth Land, Antarctica_

_At the foot of Ellsworth Mountains_

_6:11 PM_

The fast and blowing wind that welcomed Gibbs when he got off the small plane made his lungs dry. His throat felt as if it was frozen. Despite the layers of clothing that he wore, the coldness still seeped through. Adjusting his darkly tinted goggles, he looked around the mountain for any entrance, but he knew he would not find one. _Mean joke, _he sighed inwardly.

"Agent Gibbs!" Pier's muffled voice called his attention. "It will be dark pretty soon. Maybe we should go. It's hard to navigate at night time."

"Just one more minute," Gibbs yelled back, and then turned around. "I'm looking for nothing here," he added.

As he expected, nothing significant was there. Boulders of rocks and ice lied in wait while the night slowly dawned on the land. The noise made by the aircraft's blade perforated through the eerie silence, and it may be the only lively feature that the place had.

Before he could return to the plane, Gibbs noticed what looked like a cave on a farther side of the towering land mass in front of him. He glanced back at Pier, who was waiting patiently, and decided to just go on. His mouth became drier, warmth flushing to his cheeks while he walked. Surely, that cave, he thought, was just a cave. No house or children or anything.

He took out a flashlight from his pocket as he entered the dark opening, scrutinizing the whole area to make sure that his assumption was true. Sharp icicles glimmered with the light. Some snow from outside sauntered beside his feet, the wind carrying it. Whitened rocks secured the passage, in a way providing heat for him, telling him to move on.

Gibbs stopped when he saw a black metal door at the end of the cave. Attached to a rock, to its right, was a small silver box. After removing his goggles, Gibbs drew out the bigger key from the box he clenched at his side. Lifting the silver box, he saw that there was a key hole at the center of it.

He slid the key inside and turned it.

The black, metal door hissed open, and it sent Gibbs to full alert. His footsteps echoed when he proceeded inside. The flashlight in his hand revealed a big screen some distance in front of him. It was, to his estimate, fifteen feet tall. There were also several computers lined up to either side of it, tiny white lights blinking at the bottom of their frames. He drew closer.

The computer screens, Gibbs found out, was suspended above a long, clear desk. The transparent glasses slanted below them appeared to be touch-sensitive keyboards.

Before he could turn one on, he heard someone running. "Pier?" Gibbs warily swung around. The black door slammed shut, causing him to pull out his gun. "Hey!" he said angrily, his eyes sweeping the dark room.

"Nope. Wrong answer. Would you like to try again?"

"I take to it that you're one of Doctor Mallard's kids," Gibbs said. He placed the box on the table then held up the light atop his weapon. "Or just son?"

"I don't accept any answers that do not have the words 'what' or 'who'," the voice answered. Gibbs knew, basing on the other's tone, that he was getting near. "Think of it as 'Jeopardy!'."

"Okay," Gibbs calmly agreed. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

"Are you one of those scientists?"

"Have you heard of the phrase 'Answers first, Questions later'?"

"Have you heard of the phrase 'I can take you out in a hundred different ways'?" the voice asked. "Well, you might not have. I kind of revised it. But that's not important."

"What's important, then?" Gibbs asked after the voice had gone silent. Gradually, he took steps back.

"That I can," the voice answered behind Gibbs. Gibbs rotated, pointing the weapon at him. The latter quickly advanced forward, as if attacking. In a split second, Gibbs pulled the trigger. At the same time, the other man held up his hands, freezing the bullet in mid-air, inches away from his shoulders. "Whoa, old man," he whistled. "Shoot much?"

"Are you out of your mind?!" Gibbs heard someone bark. He saw her march towards the man then, she shoved him. "You almost got shot!"

"What are you getting mad at me for? I didn't have the gun."

"But you still threatened him, you lunatic. And you posed to attack him! Of course he'll fight back!"

"I was just messing with him!" the other laughed.

Gibbs focus was still on the bullet. By that time, it had become a small chunk of ice, smoke issuing around it, still stuck in the air. He opened his mouth to ask how all of that was happening when something his attention. Glassy ice covered the other man's entire hands and arms. The temperature, he could also feel, was dropping lower.

Gibbs heard soft foot steps behind him, then, "You have to forgive Tony," another woman spoke behind him.

The lights inside the room turned on altogether, their piercing brightness making everyone squint. True enough, the long tables at the side were full of computer screens that were suspended above the surface. Gibbs also noticed four cylindrical metals at the four corners of the room, wheezing out heat that was not useful. Few steps from him was the right wing stairs, behind the person called Tony.

Tony was around six feet tall, had brownish blonde hair, and was well-built. On his mouth was a smirk, which Gibbs guessed was always there. Beside Tony, yelling, was a dark-haired woman, around five-foot ten, and was a Goth. Anger and worry resided in her eyes as she slapped Tony's arm hard. The woman beside Gibbs had wavy, black hair and quiet, but alert brown eyes.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs, am I right?" she asked, watching Tony and the Goth bicker. "Ducky sent you."

"Ducky?"

"Donald Mallard. Donald. Ducky," she clarified.

"Yeah," Gibbs answered. "So I am in the right place."

"Correct," she looked at him, then saw his expression towards the bullet. "We can do that, you know. That is normal."

Gibbs creased his eyebrows. "Freezing bullets?"

She placed her hand in his shoulder, then nodded solemnly. After a while, she narrowed her eyes. "Interesting," she mumbled, staring into space as if watching something.

Seeing all these, Gibbs had half a mind not to walk out of the place. It was all too much that he wondered if it was all a delusional dream. He was surrounded by people who were suspicious, odd even. It would have been helpful if 'Ducky' told him their names, what to expect, and why he chose him.

"Yes, that would have," the woman said, removing her hand.

"What?"

"Our names, what to expect, why he chose you," she raised her eyebrows at him, "and how _weird _we are."

"What do you—"

"Ziva," she said, then gestured to the other two who were now keenly watching them. "That's Tony, and that's Abby."

"Sorry for what Tony said," Abby said quietly, a sad smile on her lips. "Sometimes he gets too excited that his brain doesn't function correctly."

"I am not excited," Tony said indignantly through gritted teeth. "And my brain is working well, thank you very much."

"You might want to drop the bullet, then," Ziva suggested.

Tony opened his mouth to ask, and then he saw the marble-like ice aimed inches away from him. He allowed his hands to drop, and the bullet smashed into pieces on the ground. The ice enveloping his arms drew back gradually until it vanished from his fingertips.

"I need to go," Gibbs said, a little irritated. "You got the wrong person."

"Special Agent Gibbs," someone stated, his voice echoing inside the room. Gibbs looked up. "Or Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Only child of Jackson and Lily Gibbs. Hometown: Stillwater, Pennsylvania. You served as a gunnery sergeant during the Vietnam war. Had a wife and a daughter, Shannon and Kelly Gibbs. But you lost them, fifteen years ago."

The speaker was at the top of the stairs, beaming at him with a faint smile. Like Tony, he was also tall, blond, but his face had a gentle and affable expression on it. He also wore thin-rimmed glasses that was perched on top of his nose. "You still kept on going," he continued. "Then, you began working for Naval Criminal Investigative Service, or NCIS in short. Not long after, you had your own team. Jason West, the senior agent; Paul Valencia and Kara Alex, the other agents. Ducky told us that your team is exceptional. The files speak for themselves and based on those, I think being good with the task in your hands is why Ducky chose you."

"Chose me for what? And what is it exactly am I here for?" Gibbs asked lividly, exhaustion starting to root inside him.

"We know you are frustrated," Ziva began, "but—"

"What?"

"There are people who wants to kill us," Ziva continued. "They want to experiment on us and take us apart because of what we can do."

Gibbs sighed impatiently. "Well what is it that you can do?" he asked.

"For starters, all of us can read minds. That's why planning to fool us will never work," Tony began, an expression of disapproval now on his face. "You saw what I can do. As for the rest, find it out yourself."

Gibbs stared at them. He would have dismissed the staked claims as a lie, but he had witnessed it not too long ago. Abby and Ziva appeared sincere, the other man was quiet though shady, and Tony looked as if he wanted to kick him out of the cave, out in the cold. _Pier, _he remembered.

Abby almost jumped. "Oh. Don't worry about him! I'll tell him you're okay," she said, smiling again. Her hair changed to a color of white, then began mimicking Gibbs' haircut. Her green eyes altered to blue, and her body—from head to feet—morphed to be like that of the agent in front of her. Her clothes also copied his. Gibbs frowned, opening his mouth in surprise. "Well, I'll tell them that I'm okay," she said, her voice now deep and commanding, perfectly like Gibbs'. She then walked out of the door.

"I'm Tim, by the way," Tim said, holding out his hand. However, Gibbs was standing still, his eyes fixed on Abby's trail. "Um, I think Agent Gibbs have had a long day," he told Ziva, lowering his hand. "Maybe we should let him rest."

_You know we are running out of time, _Ziva thought, her eyes reflecting her anxiousness.

_I know, _Tim answered. _But we have to think about Agent Gibbs also. He lost Ducky, too. And seeing four people living inside a mountain and doing a bunch of things that outsiders have never seen and done before will drain you out, believe me._

_Maybe, _Ziva thought with uncertainty.

_Hey, _Tim smiled at her. _We got the escape jet, we got the person we're waiting for. All of you are going to be okay. _

Ziva scoffed. _Have you forgotten? All of us are in danger._

_Did you also forget? I don't have any other powers like the three of you, _he replied sadly. "Agent Gibbs?" he began. "Your room is this way."

Ziva watched Tim and Gibbs ascend the metal stairs, her heart scarred of what Tim said. She hated hearing him speak like that, when he says some things reminiscent of what they have that he did not have. _I am sorry, Tim, _she thought while gazing upon his sweet and innocent face.

**………………………………......**

"So how's ze agent? Did he, euh, get in? Some people were living there?"

"Yes, Dr. LaVoisier."

"Excellent. The money will be deposited to your account by tomorrow. Merci, Pier."

"You're welcome, sir."

Dr. Erik LaVoisier signed for the tech to cut off the line. A sly smile resided on his lips as he realigned the right colors of the Rubik's cube. His plan was coming off really well.  
His suspicion of the four targets living inside Ellsworth Mountains was affirmed. He really couldn't understand why they had to ask someone from outside to help them. To him, they were as perfect as perfect could get.

That was why he wanted them.

LaVoisier tapped the pad in front of him. In four separate screens, Tony's, Abby's, Tim's, and Ziva's picture popped up, along with all the information they had gathered about them. He let out a silent laugh. They would all be his soon. He would catch them, and he would know their secrets. Afterwards, he would be the best scientist everyone would ever know.

"_Excusez-moi, Dr. LaVoisier_," his assistant whispered behind him. "_Ils ont preparer le jet_."

"_Ah bon_," LaVoisier nodded, and his assistant left.

"All's going well, I assume?" General Henry Cook inquired, leaning on a door post.

"It is," LaVoisier replied, concealing the tone of annoyance to himself. "General Cook."

"Now, I can't help but wonder why you want all of them alive when at the end, they're going to end up in your operating table anyways."

"Questions. I need to ask them."

"None of them will cooperate. Take my word for it."

LaVoisier swiveled his chair toward Cook's direction then, he stood up. "It is something that needs to be done. I cannot risk anything."

General Cook nodded. "Keep them safe?" he inquired smugly.

"If you will, General," LaVoisier responded. Cook nodded subtly then proceeded to the dark corridor to his right. LaVoisier watched him go with a contemptuous glare. Then, he resumed on admiring the screens, releasing the anger boiling up inside him.

When he's done with all of this, the first thing he would do would be to get rid of people like General Cook. He was a typical man—questioning everything and, he knew, wanting the power to himself. But that was not going to happen. Little by little, he moved in front of a particular screen, gazing at one of the four targets with greed and thirst.

Yes. Once he had that person, he would be unstoppable. Once he adjusted the person's thinking, he would be indestructible. He could control all of the countries, all of the governments. No one could disagree.

And the best part of it was, no one even knew how much ability one of the four targets holds. No one, except him.

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**Please, please, please leave a review!!! I hope to hear from those who had this story on alert, so that I'll know what you think! Thanks! =D**


	3. Chapter 3

**_Author's Note: Won't keep you much long. Just that the codes that Tim enters are completely fake. Not really hack codes. Other than that, enjoy, everyone!_**

**_Discalimer: NCIS and its characters do not belong to me. They belong to their rightful owners. _**

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**Chapter Three**

_Missiles locked in coordinate._

_"Boys are at the ready, Phoenix Two."_

_"Be careful not to fire, Eagle One. We're ordered to catch, not kill."_

_"Roger that."_

_"Twenty minutes 'til we reach the location, General Cook. These lab rats oughta come out of their hole."_

Tim opened his eyes, waking up to his violently beating heart. Quickly, he pushed off from his pristine bed, grabbed his glasses, and rushed out of his room. Before turning to a corridor, he slapped a black button that was attached on a stone wall. Bright lights instantaneously flooded every corner of the base, while a loud alarm blared throughout.

He almost slipped as he ran down the stairs, towards the Command Room, but his tight grasp on the banister saved him from an injury. "Radar on. Show stats," he commanded the line of computers and the big screen in front of him. A map of Antarctica popped up on the big screen and lists of numbers lined the computers on the sides. Two red dot-like images moved across the map. To his estimate, the subjects were above Berkner Island heading to the ranges where they were in.

"Tim," Gibbs spoke behind him, his voice evident of wariness. "What's the problem?"

"People. They're sending people for us," Tim nervously answered, and then he turned around. Listlessness was still in Gibbs' eyes, but there was also determination. He was also trying to process everything that was happening, he could tell.

"What do you mean?" Tony asked, making his way at the center of the room. Ziva and Abby were behind him, also alert.

"Jets. I don't know how, but they found out where we are. They're planning to attack," Tim clarified, pointing to the red dots on the map.

Tony breathed out lividly. He proceeded towards a computer then began typing. "Those outsiders," he muttered. "Why don't they just leave us alone?"

"What are you doing?" Ziva asked, frowning at Tony.

"If they want a fight, they'll get a fight," Tony replied.

"No. You're not going to do that," Gibbs said, still focused on the subjects' decreasing distance from their location. Four curious eyes shot towards him. "Are they armed?"

"What?" Tony incredulously asked.

"Yeah," Tim answered reluctantly. He was sensing an argument coming up for the two other men, and he didn't want to be involved in it.

"Any means of escape?" Gibbs inquired further. "Do we need to call one of the bases for help?"

"We don't need to," Tim said.

"We have a fully functional jet at the top of the mountain. In the garage," Abby added. When Gibbs gave her a puzzled expression, she said, "We'll explain later."

Tony placed his hands on his hips, as if demanding authority. "Are you nuts?" he shot at Gibbs. "We are not abandoning this base! All of Ducky's stuff—all of our belongings are in here!"

"But all of you are in danger here, Tony," Gibbs countered. "And I'm not letting any of you end up dead."

"We won't because we'll defend ourselves."

"What if they come back, but with more people? What will you do by then?"

"Go until the end."

"No," Gibbs said, reflecting Tony's glower back at him. "That is not the way this will go. I will not let anything happen to any of you. They're armed—"

"And so are we!"

"Do not ever underestimate the enemy, Tony," Gibbs stated. Tony stood speechless, seething. "You might be able to do things that no one else can do, but these people are capable of destruction, too. Now the best thing we can do is to escape. Save ourselves."

"I'm not going," Tony said decisively.

"Eight hundred miles from our base," Tim warned, eyeing the subjects looming closer to the mountain.

"Abby, Ziva, go," Gibbs commanded. When they remained, he barked, "Now!"

Hesitantly, the two of them hurried up the stairs, looking back at the three before heading to the long corridor.

Gibbs looked at Tony. He was furious, he knew, and he could understand. He did not know how long they had been living inside the mountain, and he could tell that none of them wanted to leave. There was also a feeling of defensiveness coming from Tony. He was hostile, indifferent and, ironically, cold. Gibbs didn't know if it was because of Donald's death, the estrangement of seeing a new person that would be in charge, or both.

But it did not matter. All the concerned Gibbs at the moment was their safety.

"Six hundred miles, Agent Gibbs," Tim said, getting more anxious.

"If you want to leave, you can," Tony told Gibbs. "The door out has always been open."

"What's the matter with you?" Tim yelled at him. For an abrupt moment, Tony appeared surprised, but it was immediately overshadowed by his anger. "We don't have any choice! Even if we disable them, they will come back. The only goal they have is to catch us. You three the most! And I'm sure that is not what Ducky wants to happen."

"Let him," Gibbs said. "He wants to stay. Let him."

"But Agent Gibbs—"

"Die today or live until tomorrow. His choice."

"We can't…" Tim said then trailed off when Gibbs glanced at him. He turned his head to Tony's direction. Anger. Perhaps some fear. Tony was consumed with these. Reading his expression, Tim knew Tony was blinded with his emotions. Thoughts? He couldn't read any. All he had was what he was feeling.

Gibbs, meanwhile, had a dim sense of victory. _Of what? _he wondered. He was winning something, but he was doubtful of it. _Tony, _his mind whispered to him. It was all a plan to make him come with them. He sighed subtly and hoped that it would all work.

"Tim, head on to the jet. I'll be right behind you," Gibbs said.

_Tim, _Tony glared at him, firmly convincing him to stay.

Tim shook his head. _Goodbye, Tony, _he thought to him. Tony looked away indignantly and swallowed hard. Then, Tim ran upstairs and vanished also inside the same corridor that Abby and Ziva went through.

Gibbs watched as all of it sank into Tony. Even if he knew it felt awful for the young man, he acknowledged that he had to do it. And he hoped that this would pull him out of his foolishness. "Nice meeting you, kid," he said, then caught up with the rest to the alleged garage.

………………………………**......**

"Where's Tony?" Abby demanded.

"He really didn't want to leave," Tim explained. "Agent Gibbs, he…He tried to convince Tony to go. He wouldn't."

"Are you lying?" Abby asked.

"No! Look. He's being temperamental again. You know how he is when he's in that mood."

Abby crossed her arms and frowned. "He's being stubborn," she mumbled. When an idea hit her, she almost jumped up. "Ziva, is there any more chloroform left in Ducky's lab?"

Ziva creased her eyebrows. "Yes," she answered with suspicion. "Why?"

"Come on. We have time," Abby said, pulling Ziva's wrist as she marched to the plane's exit.

Ziva stopped, pulling he hand away. "Wait. What are we going to do?" she asked.

"We're going to knock Tony out, drag him into the jet, and live happily ever after," Abby answered, then took Ziva's hand again. "Now let's go."

"You know, as much as that sounds like a good idea," Tim interjected, "that won't work."

"Why not?" Abby halted impatiently.

"Abby, can you let go?" Ziva asked, struggling to free her hand away from Abby's grasp.

"He's immune to that now," Tim stated matter-of-factly. "Remember when Ziva and I got mad at him when were little? Because he kept pulling pranks on us? We used the _liquid _so that he'd miss his favorite TV show."

"Abby. My hand, please," Ziva said. Abby was thinking hard that she didn't hear her.

"Come on. You know about this," Tim said patiently. "Your systems get used to it once you've experienced an illness or a chemical once. Yeah?"

"You're right," Abby nodded pensively. "We need to get him another way."

"Abby," Ziva said, her eyes grave.

"What if we beat him up? You know. A mild chop on the acromion to throw him into dreamland?" Abby said. While she thought of other possibilities, she felt Ziva's skin scorch her hand. "Ow!" she let go. "What'd you do that for?"

"I kept asking you nicely, but you would not listen," Ziva replied. Then, she walked on the ramp to the plane, heading to her station.

"No need to burn me!" Abby said.

"Agent Gibbs," Tim said when he saw the older man coming. "Is Tony still…"

"I don't know," Gibbs answered. "But the two other jets are coming."

"We have to go?" Abby asked sadly. "We can't leave without Tony."

"You won't," Tony said. He exchanged a spiteful glance with Gibbs before marching up on the ramp.

"Okay then," Gibbs muttered with a vague sly smile. "Let's go."

"That was brilliant," Tim breathed out, grinning. He watched Abby as she happily strutted up to the plane. Gibbs didn't reply.

Upon entering the aircraft, Gibbs observed his surroundings. It was spacious: four black leather seats at either side, soft, gray carpet lining the floor, and lights that were almost alike with that of a daytime's. Again, there were several computer screens inside, and a main one on the overhead board. Ahead of him, towards the cockpit, he could see clearly. The "gate" gradually slid open to let them out.

"Get ready for take-off," Ziva announced, switching some of the controls on.

"Generating the wings and jet engine," Tony said, tapping the clear screen in front of him and pulling a black lever.

"Gibbs!" Abby chirped, gesturing at the seat next to her. "I saved you a seat!"

Gibbs accepted her invitation and sat down on the chair. "You do know that this is a plane, not a jet," he said after fastening his seatbelt.

"The way it runs," Abby grinned. "you would think it's a jet."

The plane timidly inched forward at first. However, when it reached the middle of the long stretch of the runway, it picked up its pace. The opening was suddenly zooming forward. The air was blowing noisily on the plane's sides, and the engines were churning sleekly. Soon enough, on the screen overhead, the radar appeared. Under it was a short summary of the location of the enemies' jets and their distance from them.

"Three hundred miles before the psychos' arrival to destination," Abby announced, throwing a disgusted look at the radar.

The plane roared as they surged forward. It wasn't long until they were airborne. The cold winds carefully carried them through with some air bumps as its only compromise. Ziva and Tony were careful in scrutinizing the violet darkness in the horizon. Abby and Tim worked industriously on analysis: the former with the data being fed through the computer in front of her, and the latter with entering codes.

"Gibbs," Ziva called from the cockpit. "Where are we going?"

Gibbs thought about it. Of course. It was very futile to escape with no place to go to. He thought of several places then, eliminated the ones where they would be easily found. It had to be somewhere busy, where a threat to the four would alert almost everyone. At the same time, it should not be anywhere where unusual things were common. "Baltimore, Maryland," he said.

"Okay," Tim said, frowning at the screen in front of him. His fingers moved speedily and harmoniously as he typed a fresh batch of codes. _SUBJ: DELTSTRM, _the screen displayed. _INTERCEPT497=InT497; :89B; :891B; Arr1325-CODELOCKED. _Tim turned around and smiled at Gibbs. "Hacked into airline mainstreams, found one open, and now we're an air line plane. Our 'flight' should arrive there at 1:25 pm."

"Good job, Tim," Gibbs said, his face expressionless. He looked up on the screen. Two hundred and eighty miles.

"Be ashamed of yourself, McGeek," Tony said, flipping up three of the switches. "You're doing something illegal." He turned his head a little to Gibbs' direction. "And you have no right to tell us what to do," he added, and Gibbs knew it was meant for him.

Gibbs fought hard not to slap Tony at the back of his head, like what he usually did to some of his team members when they were going over the top. His patience was being drained out of him, every last drop. He did not want to betray Donald's trust, to hurt one of his 'sons' when he should be protecting him. But it was enough. "You know where to go?" he asked, his eyes focused on Tony. "Go ahead. Go where you want to go.

"What?" Tony asked, still.

"You want to lead? Go ahead. Lead," Gibbs said. "Tim, un-hack the flight."

"Wait," Tony said before pushing the autopilot button at the side. He stood up, livid once more. "What do you think you're doing?"

Gibbs unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up. "Letting you do what you want."

Tony's chest heaved up and down, his jaws clenched tightly. Ziva was behind him, ready to prevent the two if they were to argue. Nearby, Tim and Abby watched keenly. "You know what your—"

The three of them were knocked off from their feet when something impacted the plane. Ziva was swift to run back to her station. _LEFT WING HIT, _a red warning flashed boldly on the screens. Abby nervously looked around. Next, she clicked on the clear keyboard in front ot her, and the reason came out. "They hit us with a missile," she said through gritted teeth.

"They missed, but hit some parts of the left wing," Ziva supplemented.

"Those lunatic—"

_"Missed! It missed!"_

_"That's not what's important! You still hit them!"_

_"Yeah. You're right. You're—"_

_"It's not a good thing! If they die, General Cook and Dr. LaVoisier will kill us!"_

Tim could hear the pilots of the jets clearly while he tried to fix what he could on the damage. They did not mean to take them out. A mistake, with an inevitable consequence waiting for the five of them. There was one solution. As much as he did not want to do it, he had to. He laid his left palm on the plane's side, and he occupied his right hand with hacking. Gradually, exhaustion inhabited his body, but he was determined to continue.

The floors shook violently, the lights flickering on and off. All of them could feel the gravity pulling them downward. For Ziva and Tony, resistance was not easy. The levers and switches were worthless. Abby was hopeless.

They were going down to their end.

"Parachutes," Gibbs said. "Do you have any?"

"Last cabin," Tony answered. "But I'm staying here."

"If I have to push all four of you out of this forsaken plane, I will," Gibbs said. "So if I were you, I'd grab one before I do that!"

_"Phoenix Two! Come in, Phoenix Two!"_

_"Why are you yelling?"_

_"My controls. They're not working!"_

_"Wha—Hey. No. Hey!"_

_"What are you doing?!"_

_"It's not my control! I'm not doing anything!"_

_"Wait. What's—"_

Tim fought the urge not to laugh. _They're so confused, _he thought. _Their jets are going backwards! _"Veer in what direction, boss?" he asked Gibbs.

"What do you mean?"

"You're the captain," Tim said, grinning. "Veer in what direction? North? Northeast?"

"The plane's damaged, Tim," Tony irritably said. "Are you seriously joking, or did the impact shook your brain out of place?"

Tim rolled his eyes. Gibbs would have yelled at Tim, if only he had not notice that their plane had gone stable. The floor was quiet, the lights were on, a bit brighter, and everything else was tranquil. He looked at the screen overhead. Percent damage was at zero. Like nothing even happened. _We can do that, you know, _Ziva's statement yesterday rang in his mind._ That is normal. _"We're heading seventy five degrees northwest," he answered. He turned to Tim and saw that the young man had his eyes closed, reclining on his seat.

"But Agent Gibbs," Abby protested.

Gibbs nodded at the screen in front of Abby. "Zero percent damage," Gibbs pointed out. "We can still fly."

Tony, Abby, and Ziva darted confused and bewildered looks to one another when they saw that he was right. "Well, I guess we are going," Abby said before swiveling back to her station.

By the time that everyone was calmer, Tim was fast asleep. Now and then, Gibbs gave commands that periodically sprang up on Tim's computer screen. During the flight, Abby asked him many questions about Maryland, America and NCIS. Ziva chuckled and smiled with them at times, but Tony remained unmoved.

Gibbs thought about how so far, the four entrusted to him had been the ones saving him. Tim had been the biggest help. He knew he was being unfair to Dr. Mallard, but he hoped that when they land, things would change.

After gathering an overview of the plane, Gibbs momentarily observed Tim. He was still asleep. _Thanks, _he thought reluctantly before going back to his seat.

Tim's lips curled a little. _You're welcome, boss, _he thought.

* * *

**Reviews are always, always appreciated! **


	4. Chapter 4

**_Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters, the Grand Sierra Hotel in Reno, NV, and Starbucks definitely DO NOT belong to me. They belong to their rightful owners._**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

He hated it. He hated the plan they had acted on, especially the result it gave them. The targets escaped and were nowhere to be found. Those pilots. Thos fools! They were not thinking. They thought that it would be so easy to catch the four of them. Wrong. Very wrong. If they had only kept in mind what the targets were able to do, then they could have had them now.

_Americans, _he thought grudgingly. _Them and their repulsiveness._

Not only did they lose them, but now they could not access the base at Ellsworth. The base near the ranges, which belonged to Chile, were alerted about the two jets that entered their boundary. General Cook was hasty to amend it by reasoning that the pilots entered the wrong coordinates.

But that didn't work.

And it was causing them more delay than they allowed to have.

"You look demented, Erik," Henry said, a good-natured smile on his face. "Why don't you lighten up, huh? It's not the end of the world."

Erik fought the urge to glare at him. "I suppoze not," he muttered.

"We're working on the incident as best as we can," Henry added.

"_Je peux ce voir, _General Cook," Erik answered.

"If it would make you happy, we have started on tracking them." Henry leaned on the cold wall, hands in his pocket, eyes on the ceiling. Erik turned his head towards his direction. "We picked up on reports about a new plane—non-commercial plane—landing on an airport at Reno, Nevada. We're going there to visit the aircraft. You're coming, aren't you?"

"Of course. I am. I will."

Henry nodded curtly before pushing off from the wall. He was walking towards another room when he stopped. "Dr. LaVoisier," he said. "I'm hoping that you haven't forgotten our deal."

"No. I have not."

"Good," he said. "You can do all the experimentation that you want when we catch them. After that, when you're done, I'll take care of the disposal." Henry chuckled. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if I was the one who put down the four powerful human beings the world have ever known?"

Erik waited until Henry left before raising his eyebrows. _Si tu peux, General Cook. Si tu peux. _Of course. Only if he could.

………………………………**......**

_Reno, Nevada_

_Grand Sierra Hotel's Lobby_

_7:15 PM_

Abby's eyes twinkled at the sight of the glass chandeliers. A smile crept up on her rosy lips when she smelled sweet aromas floating about in the air. "It's so beautiful in here," she uttered dreamily.

"Yeah, it is," Gibbs answered, more to himself.

They were sitting at a couch inside Starbucks, waiting for his coffee to be ready. It had been hours ago when they landed on Nevada. A faulty landing, because Ziva entered the wrong coordinates and Tony veered to the wrong direction. Although he wasn't comfortable on staying there, Gibbs saw that everyone was exhausted, including himself. No one, at least it seemed to him, was suspicious of the plane they had landed at the airport, so that was good enough. He hailed two taxis and asked the drivers to take them to the large hotel where they were in at the moment.

He was having trouble getting a room when Tim called quietly behind him.

"Do you have a cell phone, boss?" he asked cautiously. Tim was looking around then, as if people would all of a sudden turn into maniacs and start wielding a sword towards him.

"Why?"

"Just to…you know," he replied timidly. Gibbs drew out his phone then handed it to him.

"Why? You going to call the jet pilots to say sorry, Timmy?" Tony asked. It had only been a few minutes after Tim had told him how he hacked into the intruders' jets' systems and made them go backward.

"Uh, what's your hotel's phone number again?" Tim had asked the receptionist, ignoring Tony's teasing.

The woman slid a pamphlet towards him irritably. Tim nodded after glancing at it. Then, he began typing on the cell phone's keypad. He creased his eyebrows for a moment, his fingers in sync with each other, and then flipped the phone shut. "Our apologies," he said pleasantly. "We do have a reservation."

The receptionist frowned. "Didn't I just tell you that there's no Jethro Gibbs on the reservations list?" she said.

"Can you check again?"

"Do you want me to call security?"

"Fine. We'll talk to your manager."

The woman looked at Tim pointedly, sighing. "One last time, and I'll throw you out myself," she had warned them while she typed on her keyboard. After hitting _Enter_, she stared at the computer screen with disbelief. "Rooms 1151 and 1155," she mumbled, awestruck. "And your rooms are ready."

"What's next?" Tony had asked Tim while they were inside the ascending elevator, their room cards in their pockets. "Credit card and a grocery store number pad to hack into the Pentagon?"

"An order for Gibbs," a call from the counter pulled Gibbs out of his reverie. He stood up then picked up the warm beverage. "Enjoy your coffee, sir," the Starbucks employee smiled at him.

Abby was already outside when he turned around. "This place is beautiful," she said as they promenaded around the lobby. "Did I tell you that already?"

"You did," Gibbs said before sipping some of his drink.

"Oh," Abby frowned then, she shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I can keep on saying it all day, and I'll never get tired of it. Reno is beautiful. It has to be the most wonderful place we've been."

Gibbs glanced at her before looking around the lobby. "Where else have you been?" he inquired.

"You mean besides the base?" Abby asked, looking momentarily at Gibbs. "Nowhere else. We've played outside on the snow at Ellsworth before. That's just about it."

"You have never been outside Antarctica?" Gibbs asked, a hint of incredulity in his voice.

"Not really," Abby answered, watching the people passing by her with a small smile on her face. "I mean, when we were born, we spent a month at our birth places before Ducky took us to the base."

Gibbs quietly drank the hot coffee, pondering about what Abby was saying while the beverage's heat refreshed and awoke his senses. "Ducky," Gibbs started. "I mean, Dr. Mallard. Is he really your father?"

Abby stopped on her tracks and stared at Gibbs, trying to discern whether she could trust him or not. Gibbs also halted, thinking that maybe she had felt someone following them. He began looking around warily, searching everyone's faces for anything suspicious. If the four were in danger, he needed to get them out of there in an instant. Abby smiled. "You're good, I guess," she said, near to laughter.

"Did you see anyone?" Gibbs asked, still alert.

"No," Abby replied then continued on walking.

"Then why did you stop?" Gibbs inquired again as he walked alongside Abby.

"I was just trying to see if I could trust you," she answered. "Anyways, the answer is no. We're not. Ducky adopted us." Gibbs noticed Abby's glee lessen when she began explaining to him. "See, our mothers didn't want us," she spoke sadly, staring forward as she did so. "Ducky worked at a clinic when he was just twenty-something years old. He was also working on a DNA enhancement experiment at that time. DNA, as in human DNA. You know. Manipulating certain traits. Increased electrical pulse. Better muscle and bone buildup. Those kind of things," she grinned at Gibbs.

"Then one day he had a woman ask him to help her with abortion," Abby said then, looked at the older man beside her. "It was Tony's mom," she added before busying her eyes with different stores. "Apparently, her husband—his dad—didn't want any child. He told her that if she had Tony, he'll leave her. That's why she decided to drop him.

"But Ducky told her that he'd take Tony. He will pay for him, as long as they gave the baby to him and allow him to be a subject for the DNA test."

"Isn't that against the law?" Gibbs asked. He tried his best to suppress his surprise about Tony's past and hopefully, it was working. "Scientific ethics, or whatever it is."

"Well, the worst effect the DNA could have was that it would make us ideally tall," Abby shrugged. "Plus, wasn't it more objectionable that our mothers wanted us _out _of their lives in the first place?"

Gibbs replied by sipping more coffee.

"Ducky injected the DNA into our mesenchyme cells when we were still in the womb," Abby explained further, knowing that Gibbs had nothing to say. "He told our mothers that if they chose to, they can still have us if they wanted. But they still didn't. They didn't even name us! It was all Ducky!" She sighed. "So he had the base at Antarctica for us. Don't ask me how he did it because I don't know too," she said while eyeing one of the slot machines.

"He had Tony first, then me, then Timmy and finally, Ziva. He kind of got scared when we began developing. When he saw what we can do," Abby smiled, looking at Gibbs. "He thought it would have been nice to take us back to America with him, then we began doing our stuff. So you see how that went down the drain."

"It was caused by his experiment," Gibbs stated.

"Yeah," Abby nodded. She waited for a while, lightly intoxicated by anticipation, before she spoke again. "Aren't you even going to ask how we discovered our things?" she asked excitedly.

"Sure," Gibbs replied, scrutinizing the lobby when people began piling in.

"Well, when Tony was six, he was playing with this rubber ball with Ducky. Then, he said that he could flatten the ball. You know," Abby gestured happily. "But ice came out of his fingertips all of a sudden. It covered his hands and arms. Both Tony and Ducky got scared. He lost his grip on the rubber ball and guess what happened? It shattered on the ground," she said, awestruck. They turned around the corner store and headed for the elevator. "When I turned six, since I loved mermaids back then, but now I don't because I seriously think they're a little—"

"Abby."

"Oh, right," Abby nodded. "Well, I shifted my legs to fish tails! Then that scared Ducky, too. Years later, Ziva turned six. She came screaming one day while we're watching a movie, and her arms were on fire. Ducky didn't want to use the fire extinguisher on her then, so he used water. It didn't work. So he brought her to the pool. She turned it into Jacuzzi. I told Ziva to be calm because the more she freaks out, the more fire she released. After a while she did. Then we were okay, but Ducky was pale as snow afterwards."

By the time, they had reached the elevators. Abby reminisced joyfully while she watched the lights on the elevator pad. Gibbs pushed the upward button, wondering about something that Abby didn't mention. "Tim," he said quietly. "You didn't say what he could do."

Abby bit her lips, suddenly appearing upset. "Because our senses are far sharper than normal people, we have the ability to determine what people are thinking by feeling their pulse and reading their expressions. Even if they're far away from us. And we learned how to do that when each of us turned five," she said. "When Tony, Ziva, and I turned six, we had something new. Tim? He got really, really sick. I think that's one of the reasons Ducky stopped adopting children."

"Why? What happened?"

The elevator chirped and then slid open. No one else was inside. Abby waited until the doors closed. "He had high fever at first," Abby recalled hesitantly. "Then it escalated. We thought that that was his ability. Heat, or maybe fire. But he cried day and night, and he began throwing up so much. He didn't want to eat. He lost a lot of weight. He became pale. And one night, he didn't wake up anymore. We thought he was dead.

"Ducky tried CPR, but it didn't work. Tony was so angry at himself because he couldn't do anything, and I was just wishing that all was just a nightmare. Ziva was only four back then and she didn't really understand, but she was crying. Ducky used a sort of defibrillator. He used it four times, then Tim woke up. Next day he was okay," Abby said, a smile coming back to her face.

They stepped out when they reached their floor, silent for a moment as both took in the story. Gibbs could not imagine what the four of them had gone through: first, with their abandonment, then growing up with what they had. Dr. Mallard. He wondered if he had always been there for them. He must have, because every aspect of Abby's story noted of the doctor's presence in their lives. He also thought of Tony, and how he understood him better now. Abby, in a sense, he became close to. He couldn't help but see Kelly in her. Ziva. There was little he caught about her, but he knew it wouldn't be long until he gets to know her better. And Tim. "What happened after?" he heard himself asking.

"He stopped with mind-reading," Abby replied as they walked toward her and Ziva's room. "But from the four of us, he's the smartest and nicest. He just have a little issue with confidence. You can thank Tony for that," she chuckled.

They stopped in front of the door of her room, and then Abby turned to Gibbs with a weary smile. "We can read what you're thinking of as much as we want, Gibbs, but we still wouldn't know what you would choose to do. I mean, we have seen a lot of shows and movies about the world outside the base and about you outsiders. We know certain things about life out here, but we still need your help. We're just beginners, and we're already in trouble. I'm hoping that you stick with us 'til you can. I'm hoping that one day, when something happens and you have to pick either those people trying to get us or the four strangers you've just met, I wish you'll choose us."

"Why should I leave you?" Gibbs asked, his eyebrows raised.

"I don't know," Abby said. She fed the card in the slit and opened the door. "But in a war, people change. Especially when you've just known the people you're defending for a little while," she answered. "Goodnight, Gibbs."

Gibbs thought about it. He was tired, so he decided to reserve the idea until tomorrow. "Goodnight, Abby," he said.

Before closing the door, Abby waved at him, hoping that he really would stay with Tony, Ziva, Tim, and her.

* * *

**Please, please, please leave reviews! I'd be happy to know what you think about this fic. If you don't want to, you can, eh-herm, _tell _someone about this fic (only if you like it!)... **

**Have a great day! XD**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Thanks for all those who left reviews! Melidona, Abby's Twin, and LoveAndSerenity, thank you! I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters do not belong to me. They belong to their rightful owners.**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

_Reno, Nevada_

_Grand Sierra Hotel Lobby_

_9:34 AM_

Tim pushed his glasses closer to his eyes . He stretched once more, yawned, then went back to the laptop in front of him. For a minute, there was only the sound of the keyboards clicking and the soft chatter from the people walking around the lobby. Words and numbers shot up the screen. He smiled.

He jumped up to his feet when Gibbs spoke. "I didn't know you brought a laptop," Gibbs said.

Tim fought hard to calm his violently beating heart. "Gibbs," he said. "I mean, Boss."

A small smile stretched out on Gibbs' lips as he looked at Tim. He shook his head. "I assume that that laptop was in one of the bags the four of you brought?"

Tim frowned then, he glanced back at the computer. "Oh. That's not ours," he said.

The older man creased his eyebrows. "Whose is that then?"

Tim shrugged. "I don't know," he answered. "I saw it on the table. I thought anyone could use it."

Gibbs surveyed Tim's expression. There were nothing but sincere innocence and honesty. "Don't touch other people's stuff, Tim," he said before heading towards the reception area. Tim followed close. As they walked, Gibbs drew out his phone then gave it to Tim. "Can you make sure that the hotel's log doesn't have anything suspicious?" he asked.

"Uh—"

"Good morning, Mr. Gibbs," a young man in a crisp black suit greeted him with a grin. "You need another extension again?"

"Yeah."

"You've been here four days. Our hotel must've made a good first impression."

"You could say that, Scott."

Tim opened his mouth to interrupt, but the phone on his hand vibrated. He turned it over and saw _Jenny _in bold letters on the screen. "Um, boss?" he said. Gibbs looked at him. "Someone's calling."

"Answer it."

"Hello?" Tim said after hesitantly flipping the phone open. He walked some distance away from Gibbs while he scrutinized the whole lobby.

"Hello? Jethro?" a mellifluous voice spoke on the phone.

"Oh. Um, no, ma'am."

"Who's this?" she asked warily.

"I'm Tim. Timothy…Mallard."

"Mallard? You're Dr. Donald Mallard's—"

"Son," Tim answered, a bit saddened when he remembered Ducky.

Jenny was silent for a while. "I'm sorry to hear about what happened," she said consolingly.

Tim smiled. For a while, he sought for words, but found none. A lump began to form in his throat as Ducky's face floated in front of his eyes. He shouldn't cry. Tony told him when he was little that men never cry. He should strong.

But he couldn't. It had only been a week since they found out that Ducky was gone. What hurt the most was that he didn't even have the chance to say goodbye. When Ducky departed, things weren't peaceful between them. Tim blamed himself. He was stupid. He was stupid for not having his pride demolished and say sorry to the man who had been his father.

The instant his eyes began to sting, he took a deep breath. He couldn't cry. He shouldn't. Men never cry. He lifted his eyes and distracted himself with the increasing number of people in the lobby.

However, a particular group caught his attention. There were six men who were wearing army uniforms marching determinedly to the elevators. In their lead was a man who appeared silent, but his eyes, despite their lethargy, reflected a lethal intention. Unlike the others, all the man wore was a black uniform. He opened his mouth. Tim listened close.

"You know what to do," the man said, an accent evident in his words. _Israeli, _Tim concluded. "If the NCIS agent fights, we have direct orders. Take him out. All we need are the four targets."

"Listen," Jenny said on the phone, bothered by Tim's silence. "Just tell Jethro that he needs to call me back."

"Okay," Tim answered, walking briskly towards the elevators. He slowed down, making sure that they were gone, before following them. They shouldn't reach Tony, Ziva, and Abby. They were still asleep, and they might not be able to defend themselves. "I'll tell him, Ms. Jenny," he added. Then, he shut the phone.

Cautiously, he laid his right palm on the elevator pad. One. Two…Five. Six. Sixth floor. Obviously, they had the wrong information. They went to the wrong floor.

When the elevator chirped and slid open, Tim walked in, pushing another button. It didn't matter whether they were right or wrong. All he knew was that he needed to stop them before they could take his family.

**………………………………****......**

"Thanks, Mr. Gibbs," Scott posed another grin, handing the black credit card back to Gibbs.

Gibbs replied with a curt nod. He stuck the card inside his wallet quickly, and then placed it in his pocket. "Tim, did you—" His eyes swept around the floor when he realized that the young man behind him was gone. Once more, he searched. He was nowhere to be found.

"Looking for your employee?" Scott smirked behind the desk.

"You saw him?"

"Rushed to the elevator. Probably needed to get something from the room," he pointed.

"Thanks," Gibbs muttered before running to the direction Scott indicated.

Scott watched as Gibbs vanished. He adjusted his earpiece, pushing the back of his ear with a calloused finger. "General Cook?" he mumbled under his breath. "The agent is on his way. Subject three saw Ra'am's team and is also on his way up."

**………………………………****......**

Tim stepped out of the elevator, then looked left to right. He was expecting a soft clamor, perhaps a commotion, as the men sift through the whole floor for them. However, silence enveloped the whole area. Save for the lavish carpet under his feet and the beaming yellow lights, everything appeared lifeless.

He took a few steps forward, quietly moving less he arouse any attention. When he reached the corridor, he looked to the right. Still no one. But when he turned his head to the left, he saw the man again. This time, he held an intrigued smile on his face. He also gazed straight in Tim's eyes, fearless.

Tim backed out. As he did, he heard soft footsteps behind him. He halted.

"Subject three," the man said, stepping toward him.

Tim swallowed. "I'm not subject three," he said firmly despite his wrecking nerves.

"What does it matter? You will end up to be one anyways," the man answered.

"Who are you?"

"Does it matter?"

"It does," Tim answered, contented, "Zuriel. You can tell General Cook the same."

A subtle amazed expression flushed on Zuriel's face. "You hacked into our system," he crossed his arms.

Tim smiled. "No…" He took a few steps back. He tapped a finger on his head. "Hacked into your old nougat."

"Mind reading," Zuriel stated thoughtfully. "One of the wonders of the four subjects. Do you know that the government—the tacticians in particular—is immensely interested in finding out how that could be done?" He advanced forward. "They would kill just to learn it."

"I know."

"You do not have to be hurt. Just cooperate, and everything would go smoothly. After all, you are the useless subject. Might as well join our side," Zuriel offered.

"Make me," Tim challenged. Zuriel nodded solemnly then, like in a slow motion, Tim watched him attack. He balled his hands into fists, waiting until the first strike comes.

**………………………………****......**

The elevator when Gibbs came in bore three men that wore camouflage suits. Instantly, he knew that something was wrong. They appeared to be cunningly waiting, loaded with a sharp intention, to finish a task at the right time.

So when one of them slapped the emergency stop button after they have gone up a floor, it didn't faze him. They only begat a quick sideway glance from him.

For a moment, they only stood in silence, until one of the men shuffled to draw a gun out of his holster. Gibbs was swift. He rotated to face them. He jabbed the man's arm upward with his palm, and hit him flatly in the face. He didn't allow the other two to regain their stance. Using their paralyzing shock to his advantage, he continued. He rammed his elbow backwards, causing the man to scream in pain when blood burst out of his nose. Next, Gibbs used his forearm to push the man in the middle to the wall of the elevator. It was enough force to knock him out of consciousness, but not so powerful so as to damage him.

While the man with the bloodied face staggered to his feet, Gibbs pushed the emergency stop button again, then the fifth floor button. After turning back, he was thrown off balance when he was hit on the mouth. He slid to the ground, giving the other man enough time to pull out a weapon. Gibbs swung a foot upward. Pain jolted to the other's arm when he felt the bones in his hand break, and it caused him to lose his grip. Gibbs kicked him once more, and it sent the man to crash on the floor, weak and unable to recover.

The elevator slid open then. Gibbs walked out, wiping the fresh blood from his lips with the back of his right hand. It wasn't long until he heard a commotion, letting him know that the people who were looking for the four had found them. He ran to the hall then turned left sharply.

The door to Abby and Ziva's room was open. He took another step but stopped when he heard a scream. And it wasn't from Abby or Ziva. "No. Stop. What—what are you doing? No! Let go!" Gibbs almost jumped up when he saw a man fly out—or got thrown out—of the room, his back hitting the wall squarely. A portion of his uniform was in flames.

Ziva stepped out of the room, fire frolicking on both of her arms. Her breathing was heaved, and her glare on the man was deadly. She then turned to Gibbs. "He was a bit heavy," she reasoned.

Gibbs opened his mouth to speak but forgot what he intended to say when something else caught his attention. Slithering behind Ziva was a big black snake. An anaconda. "Ziva," he said calmly, eyeing the animal warily.

Ziva frowned at Gibbs' expression, wondering why he was suddenly apprehensive. "What?" She followed the direction of his eyes. She turned around.

"Be careful—"

Ziva only smiled. The fire on her arms gradually died away. "Don't worry, Gibbs," she said. "She's harmless."

The anaconda's eyes looked at Ziva momentarily then, it turned to Gibbs' way. The snake curved forward, timidly at first, before it gained speed. As it did, it lifted its head up from the ground, gaining height the farther it went. Its black eyes turned to green; silky black hair grew out of its barren head like precious thread; its scales intertwined with each other, morphing into black shirt and jeans; and its plain body gained shape. Hands detached from its sides then finally, its tail split into two legs.

Abby grinned, raising her arms in mid-air. "Ta-dah!" she joyously exclaimed in front of Gibbs. She laughed. I didn't know I could scare you like that."

"Neither did I," Gibbs said. He glanced at both of them. "We have to go."

"Where's Tim?" Ziva asked.

"Where's Tony?" Abby asked.

Gibbs looked at the door opposite the women's room. Smoke breathed out of the small space underneath the door. The gold knob was glassy, and the whole entrance was frozen. Ice continued to branch out. He walked towards it then, he opened the door despite its frigid temperature.

They found Tony standing in front of one of the two men who were crystallized and frozen. He was examining it, like it was an interesting statue. He spun around when he felt the presence of other people. "Oh," he said. "Hello."

Gibbs noticed that everything was iced. The room seemed like a big refrigerator: morning light barely passing through, snowy bed, ridged gray mirror.

"They'll thaw in a couple of days," Tony said sheepishly. He walked outside the room. "They'll wake up next month," he added.

"That's so cool!" Abby said.

"Was that really necessary?" Ziva inquired, annoyed.

"They were going to inject me with something," Tony responded. "It was justified."

"What if they die?"

"They are not going to die."

"Hey. I did bite that other jerk in our room on the leg."

"See?"

"You said it was not poisonous!"

"Not…Not really."

"Hey!" Gibbs bellowed. Three pairs of eyes looked at him. "Are we escaping or arguing?"

"Sorry, Gibbs," Abby said.

"Come on," Gibbs said, leading the way.

"Wait. Where's Tim?" Tony asked.

"Tim is right here," Tim said, strolled towards them. He had his hands in his pocket. He had his hands in his pocket, relaxed. "Did I miss anything?"

"Yeah, you missed something," Tony countered. "You missed these men trying to take us! I thought you were supposed to keep watch for the two days we're asleep?"

"Well, I'm sorry!" Tim replied, suddenly annoyed and at the same time, a bit terrified. "I just went around the lobby."

"And you didn't see any of these men?" Ziva gestures to one.

Tim inspected the man in the uniform. "No," he frowned, unable to recognize him.

"Let's not waste time," Gibbs admonished. "Come on."

"Let's use the elevator!" Abby chirped.

"No." Gibbs proceeded to the corridor.

"Why not?" Abby asked, speeding to catch up with Gibbs. Behind them, the other three followed close.

Gibbs smiled slyly. "Other people are using it," he answered, pushing the door of the fire exit open.

* * *

**Come on... You know you want to leave a lovely review for the story... *wiggles eyebrows***


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's Note: I really appreciate how a number of readers are putting an alert to this story! But I do hope that you drop a review--even a smiley--to let me know you're enjoying this story! To those who kept leaving reviews, I virtually hug you and thank you! =***_

_**Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters do not belong to me.**_

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Zuriel Ra'am sat seething on a hospital bed. In his bed laid his arm, heavily bound in a cast. Around his left eye was a circle of blackness and on his eyebrow was a blood-tinted bandage. He gritted his teeth, only to gasp when a current of pain shot through his body. He avoided moving since the ache that his body could give him can be unbearable.

In other rooms in the hospital were the six men who were in his team. Sergeant Langue and Sergeant Marks both had broken rib cages. DiMaggio acquired a broken arm and damaged scapula. Carr, Jamieson, and Forrester, all three who took out their guns, were in such a wreck that the doctors declared them unstable.

He breathed out angrily. He couldn't understand how it happened. It was all so fast. He remembered throwing a punch on the subject's face but for the first time, he missed. Subject three was swift. But that couldn't be. Subject three was a trash, a mistake, but him? He was a skilled assassin. He lived to break, not to be broken by some freak.

The next thing he remembered doing after he missed was that subject three caught his wrist, crushed it with much strength, and threw him on the ground. He stood up, but a strong blow broke his collar bone in two and ruptured his left eye. Then, darkness engulfed him.

Vengeance bubbled inside his mind. He caused him humiliation. He destroyed his team. Above all, he made him look like a failure.

Yes. He would find him. He would find Tim, and he would take him out.

**………………………………****......**

_But I don't know how to make a paper plane! _Tony said, his voice young and in a panic.

_Anthony, you're just seven. It's not a big thing._

_Yes it is, Ducky. The kids on the show I was watching can do them already. And I can't!_

_Oh there, there. Don't cry. What do you say I teach you how to make one?_

_Rea…really?_

_Yes. Here. See this paper right here?_

_Yes…_

_Just fold this side to the middle. Then the other one, too. Crease this sides, okay? Then, _Ducky threw the paper upwards. The air carried it through. _It will fly._

Tony's mouth was left agape with amazement.

_Here, Anthony. Try it yourself._

_Okay. You said fold these flaps to the middle, then fold these ones, too. And it's ready to…fly!_

Ducky chuckled. _Look. Yours flew higher than mine!_

_It did? _Tony laughed. _It did! It did! _He looked at Ducky. _Thank you, Daddy!_

_Just—Ducky, _Tony heard him say in his mind. Ducky only smiled. _You're very welcome, Anthony._

Tony opened his eyes. The shine of the setting sun created black spots in front of his eyes for a while until the clouds hovered over the airplane windows. He sat motionless, awake although dreaming. He let his mind dabble on a pool of blankness, of nothingness, of uncertainty.

He was ripped away from his trance when Gibbs settled on the seat beside him. He glanced at him before resuming to watch the clouds. "I thought it would be better if we head on to DC," Gibbs said. "It's much safer there. NCIS can protect the four of you. If not, maybe the FBI will."

Tony remained silent.

"I'm sorry," Gibbs said, "about what happened to Ducky."

Tony scoffed softly, a forced smile on his face. "Yeah, well, aren't we all?" he asked, as if he was talking to the distant sun. He paused, then continued. "If I could only go back to the base, I would. But they might have had it surrounded by now." He shook his head. "I wasn't lying when I said we had the weapons to fight them. We really did," he said, staring straight ahead. "Ducky made sure that we were safe so that in case he was somewhere else and someone attacks, we could defend ourselves. I've known how to operate the control panel since I was six. Knew it like how other kids knew their TV and their light switch."

"But you'd be better off free and be able to fight, than to be trapped and fight for your life," Gibbs commented.

"I guess," Tony shrugged. He laughed softly. "We're prepared for combat, too, in case you were wondering. The way we defended ourselves earlier? That was nothing." He sighed. "We had tons of simulations back at the base. DPRs and SAgiR programs, mostly."

Gibbs creased his eyebrows. "DPRs?" he asked.

"Defense-Program Rooms," Tony answered. "SAgiR stands for Stamina-Agility-Resistance Programs. I think outsiders have a school subject for it. I think it's all of you call it 'gym'."

"Ah," Gibbs said quietly.

"In simulations, we're always given the command to defend the base. Usually, Abby starts, then Ziva and I end up either blowing up their whole camp or freezing the whole earth. That's only when we get fired up," Tony added. He smiled. "Ducky's a genius, I tell you."

"It sounds like it," Gibbs agreed.

"And I don't mean to brag, but in DPRs, Abby, Ziva, and I can tear apart twelve men in just minutes. Although, I should tell you that Ziva has the top score on that one. She can break more men than we can."

"I assume that Tim could fight like that too?" Gibbs asked.

"Tim?" Tony raised his eyebrows at Gibbs. "Tim can't fight one bit. He tried the DPR once, and one holographic fighter ground him to dust. No. I don't think he can even fight for his own life."

Gibbs frowned lightly, then looked back and watched Tim. He was talking to Ziva animatedly, while the latter just nodded occasionally at his story. After a moment, he stopped. Gibbs noticed that it was because of Ziva's expression. "Ziva," he saw Tim's mouth move. Ziva held an unsure and at-a-lost feeling in her eyes. Like what Tony had. Tim reached for her hand then, he squeezed it. Ziva smiled sadly. Gibbs turned his head towards Tony's direction.

"Then why are you expecting him to do the impossible?" Gibbs asked.

"What?"

"You asked him earlier why didn't he protect the three of you," Gibbs said, looking Tony straight in the eyes. "Those men were willing to kill. Were you willing to risk Tim's life just to save yours?"

"I—"

Before Tony could respond, Gibbs have already delivered a brief slap to his head. Tony furrowed his eyebrows and opened his mouth but was not given any chance to speak. "Not because you're miserable does it mean you have the right to make others feel worse," Gibbs said firmly. "You're not the only one who lost Ducky."

"But…" Tony remained glaring at Gibbs. Then, after a flicker of his eyes, his anger resigned. "Won't happen again," he said, "boss."

**………………………………****......**

Erik waited as the phone rang. All was getting too complicated to his liking. He had told them to be careful, but they remained obstinate. He had expected much of Zuriel, to at least be the one who have discipline. But he failed, too. All of them were shot down in humiliation.

And he couldn't wait until it woke them up and for them to start changing their plans. He had to make his own move.

"Hello?" a solemn but angelic voice answered.

"_Bonjour, ma cheri," _Erik greeted, a grin permeating through his face.

"Doctor LaVoisier? Oh, I…I'm so glad to hear from you! How have you been?"

"Just fine, my darling," Erik answered. "Listen, I'm working on an interesting project right now, and I was wondering if I could get help from you."

"Oh. Um…I can't. You know I'm working for NCIS right now, and my schedule's hectic."

"No worries. The help I need for is actually coming to you right now. You don't have to leave work," Erik said, gazing at his computer screen. On it was information about Gibbs and his recent credit card transactions. An hour ago, it was five tickets to Washington, DC.

"Well, if that's the case, then I'll try."

"And I really appreciate that, my darling," Erik smiled. "What you have to do is quite simple…"


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's Note: To all those who left reviews the last time, thank you, thank you, thank you! I couldn't send any reply, so I'll do it here! =)**_

_**LoveAndSerenity: Abby? Ya got it! =D**_

_**vrukalakos: Nice! I loved your comment about Tim being the real Tim. Really cool! *nods* You'll find out in a couple of chapters (maybe even in this chapter *wink*)**_

_**Fullmetal Embers: Ha! You're so funny, Embers! That was hilarious! (Hey, and welcome to NFA! Hope to see you in the forums!)**_

_**definenormal: You are absolutely a sweetheart. Thank you. I'm so happy you're enjoying this humble story of mine. :)**_

_**betagamma: Thanks! I'll try my best so you (and everyone) can enjoy it!**_

_**Dreamer22: Hate to give a spoiler here, but soon. They will know very, very soon. *mwahahaha!***_

_**Sorry about that. Anyways, enjoy!**_

_**Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters do not belong to me. They belong to their respective owner.**_

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

_Washington, DC_

_Naval Criminal Investigative Service Base_

_7:09 AM_

Gibbs sat on his desk, patiently waiting for Tony, Abby, Tim, and Ziva to come out from Jenny's office. They arrived at Washington a week ago. After their plane landed at the airport, they went straight to Dr. Mallard's house that night. He told the four of them that the house belonged to them.

He had thought at first that it was not a good idea, since some pictures might constantly remind them of the man they lost. After all, they would find out eventually whose house it was even if he didn't tell them. However, save the furniture and some appliances inside the house, there wasn't a thing that told them anything about the structure's former owner.

He stayed with them, keeping regular watch of the people that passed on the streets as they slept.

After four days, they told him that they were getting bored.

Ziva proposed a trip to NCIS, but Gibbs said that it wasn't possible since the organization was strict about having non-work related visitors inside the establishment. Then, Abby suggested that they could pretend as applicants. Before Gibbs could disagree, Tim was already at the computer, hacking into NCIS and posting false résumés for them.

Three days later, that Monday, they were called in.

"Boss?" he heard a familiar voice come from the right side of the bullpen.

Gibbs turned his head, and then looked at the man. "West," he said.

"He's back?" someone asked. A black-haired woman emerged behind West and Valencia. Her beautiful blue eyes lit up, and a smile illuminated her face. "Gibbs!" she chirped when she saw him. She rushed towards his desk then, gave him a hug.

"Kara," Gibbs smiled. "Too close."

"I'm just glad to see you," Kara reasoned, at the same time letting go of Gibbs.

"You've been out for almost two weeks, boss," Valencia said, walking towards his desk.

"I left West in charge," Gibbs said.

"Our top reason in wondering when you'll be back," Valencia sighed. "Glad to see you, boss."

"How was the trip to Antarctica?" Kara asked as she settled on her desk.

West frowned. "I didn't know you went there," he said.

Gibbs shrugged slightly. He didn't remember telling his team anything about his trip but then again, maybe he just forgot.

He heard footsteps descending from the stairs, and it had him look up. The four were led by Jenny. Gibbs stood up, watching them. His three agents noticed his gaze and followed it.

"Well?" he said.

Jenny smiled. "They were exceptional," she answered. "The only problem is that there is no one available to train them right now."

"I can supervise them," Gibbs said.

"You can't, boss," West interjected. "We're working on a case. You can't."

Gibbs only glanced at him.

"I would appreciate it, Agent Gibbs," Jenny said. "After what happened to Agent Larsen's team, we need new people."

"But Director—"

"Thank you, Agent West," Jenny regarded him with a smile. "Thank you for your cooperation."

West saw the sarcasm in her eyes. He looked away. _Idiot, _he thought.

Abby creased her eyebrows indignantly. "You're the idiot!" she yelled, her hands clamped at her side.

"Abby," Ziva said quietly, eyeing West warily nonetheless.

"What?" West said.

Abby stepped forward. "You thought Jenny was an—"

"It's not worth it," Tony placed his arm in front of Abby. He glared at West. "Say that again and see what happens," he warned.

"I didn't say anything!"

"Jason, Tony, Abby, stop." Jenny sighed. "Maybe it was a bad idea to put all of you in one group."

"No."

"I'll make sure they stay out of each other's way, Jenny," Gibbs said. "I can take it from here."

Jenny opened her mouth to differ but decided that she should give them a chance to get used to each other. "Alright," she muttered. Then, she headed back to her office.

Gibbs faced his agents. "West, go ahead and take the lead on this case," he commanded. Ziva and Tony watched closely while the senior agent grabbed his backpack from the side of his desk. "Jason," Gibbs gestured for him to come closer.

"Boss."

"Don't do that again," Gibbs said. "Next time—if I were you?—I wouldn't mess with them."

"But that woman was getting crazy—"

"West."

"Won't happen again, boss," West said after a moment.

Gibbs nodded. "Get to work."

West marched to the elevator. Inside him burned a timid anger and sharp curiosity. He did not say anything. He thought of the word, but he did not vocalize it.

There was something odd about those four people. And he was determined to find out.

………………………………**......**

"You heard what he thought, Tim. You saw what he did. That guy's just asking for revenge."

Tim looked at Abby. She was fuming as they walked outside the NCIS building. "Abby, you should give them time to adjust to us," he said. "Boss is trying his best to make us fit well with the outsiders."

"If all the people out here are like West, I'd rather let those scientist-creeps take us into their lab," Abby said. She creased her eyebrows. "Well, Jenny and Gibbs and Valencia are nice."

"Exactly," Tim said. "They're helping us a lot."

Abby crossed her arms when they reached a vendor stand. "Doesn't matter. I still want to get back at him for what he did."

"Two black coffees, please," Tim smiled to the vendor, and then turned to the woman beside him. "You know that if anything goes wrong, boss is going to get us kicked out, right?"

Abby glared at him then, she sighed. "Fine," she said. "But one more time he does that, especially if it was Gibbs or Jenny or any of you…"

"You're going to turn into a snake again?" Tim asked, pulling out the crumpled bills Gibbs handed to him an hour ago from his jean pocket.

"I'm thinking more like in the line of a lion," she said thoughtfully. "Or a mother bear."

After placing down his payment on the counter and getting the foam cups, Tim smiled at her. "What if they shoot you with a tranquilizer?" he asked, handing her a cup.

"We'd have split by then," she answered. Both of them chuckled. "I need to give this coffee to Gibbs. See you later, Timmy!"

Tim nodded. He watched Abby leave—skip, almost—for the building. Cautiously, he sipped his coffee, careful to avoid the painful sting the heat would bring to his tongue and lips. He almost choked with its steam mingled with too much bitterness when he tasted it. "How can outsiders drink this thing?" he mumbled under his breath. He turned to the vendor once more. "Do you have any sugar?"

"Yeah," he answered, and then pointed to a box. "They're all there."

"Thanks."

"You weren't that careful with the coffee, were you?" a familiar voice asked him after he had torn several brown and white packets open.

"No. No, I wasn't," Tim said after glancing at Kara. He poured the sweet white grains to his cup. "I should've not assumed that it would just be a bit warm."

"How was your day at NCIS so far?"

Tim shrugged. He stirred the coffee with one of the clean plastic knives from a container, placed a lid on his cup then, turned around. "Valencia had been patient with me. He's teaching me all he knows."

"He's teaching you? To what I've heard, _you _were teaching _him!_"

Tim shyly grinned. "He knows more than I do."

"Yeah, right," she laughed. "He said he just left you for three minutes, and you've already accessed into different files when he came back."

Tim felt heat rising to his cheeks, caused by both embarrassment and flattery from Kara's words. "Who's Agent Larsen?" he asked instead.

"Oh. Agent Larsen? He's off for now. He's a senior agent, like Gibbs. But his team died because of a shootout. Poor guy. His team was his only family, and they died like that. Director Jenny decided to give him a new team, but he requested for a leave first. He'll be back in just a week. Maybe two, if he really needs the time off."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Tim said solemnly. "It's rough to lose people that you love."

Kara only smiled at him. She watched his gentle face dim down, and she felt guilty for having brought the incident up. She had been told about the death of Tim's father. He looked like a nice man, and she hated herself for instilling sadness and arouse restlessness in him. "Are you hungry?" she asked. "I know a great restaurant out five blocks from here."

Tim swiveled his head towards her direction, unable to smother his sudden attentiveness. "Um…"

Kara smiled. "My treat," she said. "Plus, I'll tell Gibbs it's my fault if we get in trouble." She winked at him then, she led him to her car.

Throughout the travel and lunch, Kara entertained Tim. She was not like any girl he had seen on TV. _Maybe it's because she's real,_ he snickered once, but timed it just after Kara told him a funny story. She was beautiful, even pleasant. He knew he had just met her, but he liked her already. He supposed it was because she was charming.

Then again, it might be the fact that he felt from her heart that she liked him, too.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's Note: Just want to thank **deidi** for leaving a review! Thanks! =D**_

_**Disclaimer: NCIS and its **_**characters**_** do not belong to me. They belong to their owners.**_

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

_Washington, D.C_

_Inside the Observation Room_

_2:03 PM_

Ziva watched as Gibbs threw several photographs across the table. The suspect, a man named Lieutenant Christopher Fisher, looked at them momentarily and then winced at the sight of his decomposing "friend's" profile. He turned away, his low sobs only evident by the movement of his chest. Suddenly, his well-built, rock-like posture slackened before crumbling down.

"You didn't know about this?" Gibbs asked quietly.

"N-no, sir," Lieutenant Fisher answered. "I…I didn't know Danny was missing until you told me. I thought he was still at home with his family."

Ziva looked at his eyes. Despite the thick barrier that separated the Observation Room from the Interrogation Room, she could feel his pulse beating. His nerves. His memories. His lies.

His lies.

He knew exactly that Lieutenant Daniel Weisman had been missing. He had told the team that he was at his family's home at the time of the latter's death—even proved it by having his family agree that he was—when he really was not. He said he was going to try the canoe that his father built on a nearby lake, but he only used that time to slip out.

_You know the agreement, Danny!_

_Chris. I-I can't do this. If we get caught, Angeli would have to raise our child alone. I don't want to do that to her._

_But think about it. If we pull this off, your kid will have a better life._

_No. I'm sorry but, not this way._

Gunshots. One. Two. Four. Weisman fell on his knees, fell sideways, fell with his eyes watching the silver moon. They were completely devoid of life. Slowly, his memories dissolved. His family, his wife, his child that was due in two months. And, unfortunately, his last vision was of Fisher, who betrayed him for money and greed.

"Ziva," Tony spoke beside her, frowning as he saw Ziva heave her breathing. She tore her gaze away from the Interrogation Room to glance at him. He placed a hand on her shoulders.

"You saw?" she asked.

He nodded. "I saw."

"People like him should be burned."

"Or frozen really, really cold."

"Or maybe," Tim interjected, "just maybe, he should be tried according to the outsider's system."

Ziva creased her eyebrows. "Is it not obvious to you, Tim? This man is the murderer!" she blurted out.

"You think he did it?" Kara asked.

"Oh, we _know _he did it," Tony said.

"It's not really helpful if you just assume," Kara advised. "If you want to be good agents, don't just go with what your gut tells you."

"Boss is a great agent, and he usually goes with his instincts," Tim looked at her.

Kara shrugged, smiling up to him. "True," she replied.

Ziva watched Kara and Tim with a growing ire. Their eyes stuck to each other like magnets, their smiles ideal with each other, and she hated feeling Tim's heartbeat. He was falling for Kara. He was trusting her, and she knew he shouldn't be.

Tony coughed, covering his mouth with his hands, as he choked on something invisible. _Excuse me, _Tony thought to Ziva and Tim. _I think my lunch just came up because of Tim's lovey-dovey moment. _

Ziva laughed.

Tim glowered at him.

"Tony, are you okay?" Kara asked anxiously.

"Yeah, yeah," Tony continued coughing. "My throat just caught something queer. Just—don't mind me."

Ziva snickered more while Tony grinned. Tim opened his mouth to counter, but the door to the Observation Room opened. Gibbs came in with a manila folder clipped with his right hand. He sighed. "Anything?" he asked.

"This guy's clean," Kara answered. "His alibis are flawless, people saw him. We don't have anything."

"Tim?" Gibbs swiveled his head to the young man's direction.

Tim glanced at Kara and saw her waiting for him to back her up. He looked at Ziva and Tony, both of who were expecting him to profess what he knew.

"Yeah, Tim. Tell us what you know," Tony said.

"We…we don't have…we don't have enough evidence to hold him," he answered, embarrassed.

Tony shook his head while Ziva rolled her eyes. Kara raised her eyebrows proudly. Gibbs saw these, and then nodded. "Okay," he said. "Tony, Ziva, walk with me."

_Thanks for helping a killer escape, Tim, _Tony darted a glare at him. _Hope Weisman's kid doesn't grow up to be like you._

_Don't be easy to trust her, _Ziva warned him.

_You don't know her, _Tim said, a hint of defensiveness in his tone.

_You're right. I do not, _she replied. _But neither do you._

With that, Ziva closed the door. Tim stared with disenchantment at the spot where he last saw her face. She had been acting odd ever since they came to NCIS. Actually, she had been acting differently from the moment they talked on the plane going to DC. Suddenly, he thought of Ducky.

If only he was there with them.

_Timothy, family should come first. Not strangers. You know that, _Ducky would have told him.

_What if I like her?, _he asked.

_My dear boy, your brother and sisters had been with you for years, _Ducky would smile. _This girl had only been seeing you for a week. And Ziva was right. You don't know what Ms. Alex have up her sleeves. She might have something hidden. You're supposed to acknowledge that, considering you have one, too._

Tim smiled. If Ducky did say that, he would have been right.

**………………………………****......**

A devious smile tugged at the side of General Henry Cook's lips. Playing on the screen in front of him were the videos from the hotel, when his men attempted to catch the targets. He had seen it a couple of times beforehand. He was livid at first, but the feeling of awe and amazement embedded themselves into him as he repeatedly witnessed the abilities of the three subjects. He didn't know why, but he couldn't get any video from where Ra'am was on that day. He only had their scars, bruises, and broken bones to prove that there was something suspicious about the other subject.

When the clip stopped, several astonished and wan faces were left with widened eyes on the screen. "I thought they were a joke myself, but you, gentlemen, have witnessed what they can do," General Cook began. "They're magnificent. Stellar, even. And there are only four of them on this planet."

A wiry-haired man blinked, his eyes worn-out behind his horn-rimmed glasses. "Where are they?" he asked, a sliver of interest in his words.

"Somewhere you are not aware and should never be aware of."

"How do we know that that video isn't made up?" another asked.

"Will we even get a chance to catch them?"

"You said there were four. Where's the other one?"

"What other abilities do they hold?"

"Doctors, please," General Cook chuckled. "This transaction will go well if you only allow me to share more details." All of them fell silent. "I know that some of you doubt my offer. However, I am willing to hold a demonstration for any who are interested."

"Demonstration?"

He nodded. "Yes. A taste of how these subjects will benefit your researches, and maybe even a spectacle of their power will convince you that I am not making this up. I'll send the details in a few hours. Good night."

One by one, the live videos vanished from the screen, until the only one left was a later-aged, trim scientist. "At how much will the bidding start?" he asked.

"It depends, Dr. Kozlov," General Cook said, smiling. "It depends on which ones."

"The girl and the other boy," he replied. He consulted his notes before continuing. "Abigail and Anthony. I am interested in them."

"Bidding starts at four million dollars for Subject Two, and five million dollars for Subject One."

"Why the difference?"

"Because Subject One might be able to develop more compared to Subject Two."

Kozlov nodded. "I will pay fifteen million dollars each," he said. "Will that seal it?"

General Cook laughed. "Don't you doubt me, Dr. Kozlov?" he asked.

"No. I believe that you are a man of business and would not risk angering a scientist that works for the Russian government, yes?"

"Maybe."

"Goodnight, General Cook," Kozlov said, and then logged off.

General Cook leaned back on his chair. Thirty million dollars, and all he had to do was to catch two subjects. A plan hatched inside his head. He knew what he was going to do. He did not need Zuriel or anybody else to do it. Not even LaVoisier, who still had no idea of what he was doing.

**………………………………****......**

Gibbs tilted the beer bottle upward, allowing the bitter and cold drink to spill through his throat then on his heart. A few meters away from the backdoor where he leaned were the silhouettes of Abby and Tim. Tony and Ziva were not happy with what Tim answered earlier at the Observation Room. They did tell him that Fisher was the killer, with Ziva relating the full description of how it happened. They despised Tim nonetheless for lying.

Even if he himself could not read minds, he was perfectly aware that they were blaming Kara for Tim's change.

"Hi, Tim," he heard Abby start. She sat beside him.

"Oh. Abby. Hi," Tim answered silently, barely looking up at her.

"I heard about what happened."

"Yeah?" Tim chuckled listlessly. "Another stupidity by Timothy, huh?"

"Why did you lie to Gibbs? You know he's going to head-slap you to next week when he finds out."

Gibbs grinned.

Tim shook his head. "I don't know."

"Tony and Ziva are upset, too."

"They made sure I knew that earlier, Abby. But thank you anyways. It's getting late. Maybe you can go to sleep now."

"What am I? Six?" Abby asked. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"I'm…"

"It really won't help you to spend so much time with that girl when you're lonely."

"What do you mean?"

"We know that you've been seeing Kara Alex. We're not blind."

"Not you too," Tim groaned.

"I mean, I'm okay if you like her. Completely. But if you're changing like that—"

"Look. She's not doing anything."

"You basically made Tony and Ziva look like liars! You're not like that, Tim. We're not even sure if we can trust her yet!"

"Abby."

"No, Tim! We're so confused with you. When we were at Nevada, you were okay. Now that we're here in DC, you seem so distant. Is there any problem? Is it because of Ducky?"

Gibbs saw Tim stiffen. He looked down on the ground, and then to the trees. "Tony said that men shouldn't cry. They shouldn't feel sad or anything like that."

"Don't listen to Tony," Abby said. "No one listens to Tony. Ziva and I don't listen to Tony. Why should you?"

"Because it…makes sense?"

Abby shook her head, chuckling. "It shouldn't," she said.

Tim laughed with Abby for a moment. Then, he sighed. "Abby?"

"Yes?"

"What…um…"

"What what?"

"If I…if I did something that I didn't tell you, will you be angry with me?"

"It depends on what you did," Abby shrugged. She swiftly turned to him. "Did you kill someone?"

"No! What kind of a question is that?"

"I was just wondering."

"But will you be upset if I had been doing something behind your back?"

"Will it hurt us?"

"No. Not really."

"Is this hypothetical or real?"

Tim took his turn to shrug.

"I don't know, Timmy. But whatever it is, I know you're doing it for the best. For us. You're sweet and nice, and I trust you."

"You're saying that to make me feel better."

"I'm saying it because you're my brother."

"Tony's also your brother, but you insult him."

Abby smiled then, encased him in a hug. "You're different, Tim. Because you're really my little brother."


	9. Chapter 9

_**Author's Note: Thanks for the review, Embers (Fullmetal Ember)! You're lovely! =)**_

_**Disclaimer: NCIS does not belong to me. It belongs to its proper owners. There's some allusion to the Human Torch's (Fantastic 4) "flame on" line. Doesn't belong to me either.**_

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

He was alone that night. Tony, Abby, and Ziva had gone to bed and were deeply asleep. He could remember it clearly. It was only his gentle breathing and the soft hum of the computer processors making a rhythm inside the Command Room. He was watching the vast screen, tracking the movement of Ducky's plane from France.

_You're giving them away? Ducky? Is that it? _he remembered asking in frustration.

_Timothy, you do not understand, _the older man pleaded.

_What part don't I understand?_

_I have to let them go._

_You have to, or you want to?_

_Timothy, please._

_No. No! It's you who don't know…_

He remembered how he trailed off, lost in his overwhelming thoughts. He confronted the elder man before he flew to France. He didn't want to, but he had the feeling he needed to. Before it was all too late.

_You're not going to Paris just because of the children's clinic, are you? _he asked. _So I guess after Tony and Abby and Ziva leaves, you'll leave for her, too?_

_I am so sorry, _Ducky placed a hand on his shoulder. _But maybe it's time. I've raised you four to be strong people. Now, it's your chance to fly._

Beep.

He was back at the Command Room in an instant as an alarming sound issued from the main computer. The plane. It wasn't going to the right direction. The Pyrenees. It was heading for the mountains.

Quickly, he faced the smaller computers. His fingers dove for the keyboard. Two hundred and seventy-three miles. Codes bolted through the screen. He had to save Ducky.

_But I'm different, _he had replied to Ducky. One hundred and fifty miles. _I won't make it._

_I can't do anything about it, _his father had said. _You have to save yourself. _Ducky left.

One hundred miles. He blindly typed in the codes. Ducky couldn't help him? It was his fault he was like that in the first place. He was estranged, both from the world and from his adopted family. He had to save himself? It was ironic that at that moment, he had to save him.

_You have to save yourself._

Fifty miles.

_Save yourself…_

Twenty-five miles.

_Save yourself…_

Ten miles.

_Tim?_

_Yourself…_

Five.

_And save them, too…_

_Tim?_

Two.

One.

"Tim!"

Tim's head snapped up upon Kara's touch. His palms were sweating. "K-Kara," he said, wiping his hands on his jeans.

Kara frowned anxiously at him. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Look, you're so pale. Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"No. No. Thank you, but no."

She nodded then, sat down hesitantly. "Okay. If you say so."

Tim breathed deeply. He looked around the restaurant, absorbing every details of it, every light, every hue to lose his violently throbbing nerves. He attempted to smile. "Now, what did you want to talk about?" he asked.

Kara blushed. "No 'how are you', hmm? Straight to business?" she chuckled nervously.

"It's just that, you sounded so urgent. Over the phone," he said, puzzled by Kara's strange behavior. He noticed one of her knuckles stiffly moving, and her hand tightly shut. "Is there any problem?"

"You know, Tim, we'd been with each other for almost over a week now. And I'm getting a feeling that, well, you get my thought?"

Tim creased his eyebrows. "No, I don't think so," he responded, more confused.

"It's a week now, and you're a guy. I'm a girl."

"Okay."

Kara sighed. "This is harder than I thought," she mumbled. "I guess what I'm saying is I need something more."

"Something more?" he repeated.

"Yes. Timothy, all we do is shake hands. It's like you're afraid of me. And I'm sensing that at times you're avoiding me. I know exactly why. I'm not blind. I'm not deaf. I know Ziva had been keeping you away from me."

"She's like my sister, Kara. She's just looking out for me."

"Tony and Abby get nosy at times, too! Sweetie, I thought you like me."

"I do. Kara—"

"Then why are you listening to them?"

"What?"

"Them or me. Choose. If you love me, you would choose."

"But—"

"Choose," Kara said despairingly in a whisper. "I can't compete with them."

Tim stared at her. He looked at her whole delicate face then, zoomed in on her blue eyes. They were fading away—its warmth—, unlike Gibbs' fierce but understanding ones. They were unlike Tony's green eyes which were always mocking but protective. They were unlike Abby's green orbs, always full of joy and forgiveness.

And they were different from Ziva's deep brown eyes, which made him feel he belonged to where he was.

Kara's eyes were frozen. Cold and dead.

"If you love me, then why would you even ask?" he replied.

Kara opened her mouth slightly in surprise. When no words came, she pursed her lips then nodded. "Mmkay," she said under her breath. She pushed away from the table before standing up. She walked towards Tim, and then she smiled at him. "I'll always be around if you changed your mind," she said.

He saw her face move towards his. Her right hand crept behind his jaw. Her finger touched his skin, at the back of his ear. But there was something between her finger and his ear, and it clung to the latter. It had wires. Small, small wires.

She kissed him on the forehead. "You hear me?" she asked, still sad.

_I hear you well, ma cheri._

Tim's eyes widened. Kara caressed his face one last time before she departed. He was her mouth moving as she walked across the window of the restaurant. _I did what you wanted, Doctor LaVoisier, _he heard Kara's voice, still upset.

_You sound unsure, Kara. Is there any problem?_

_Nothing. It's just that… _

_You liked him?_

_He was nice, and I just think that we're being unfair._

_We are just doing what's best for him, ma cheri. Maybe even for the two of you. Pour main tenant, tu as oublier. _

Tim felt a lump grow thick in his throat. LaVoisier was right. Even if it would hurt, Tim knew that Kara should forget.

………………………………**......**

_Washington, DC_

_NCIS Main Entrance_

_5:51 PM_

Gibbs glanced at Jenny. She held a pleasant smile on her face, one that shyly extended from ear to ear. She was watching Tony, Abby, and Ziva intently as they walked out a few feet ahead of them. He scoffed.

Jenny swiveled her head towards him. "I suppose there's a reason for what you did," she asked, laughing quietly. Gibbs shrugged. Jenny looked back ahead then, she sighed. "Just where did you find them?" she asked.

"Find who?"

"The four of them. I wouldn't even know that Dr. Mallard had children if Tim didn't answer the phone weeks ago."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't have either."

"They seen to be holding strong, considering what happened to their father."

"They have to."

Jenny glanced at him. "They don't," she said. "Their human like us, Jethro. Ordinary people, not superheroes."

Gibbs smiled. "Too much hormones, director?"

"Don't push it," she said. Gibbs gave a discreet chuckle. "How are they doing anyway? With the training?"

"Good. We were able to finish a case with their help."

"Fast workers, huh?"

"You could say that," he grinned.

Abby spun around after scrutinizing the whole street. "Where are we going?" she asked.

Jenny and Gibbs exchanged looks. "Dinner," Gibbs supplemented. "We're basically done for the day, but we'll come back later. Another team needs your assistance."

Abby nodded. "Okay."

Jenny took another step down, but she halted when she remembered something. "I'll catch up with all of you. I just need to get something—"

"At your office?" Ziva turned around.

"I'll get it," Tony offered. Ziva followed close behind him as he headed for the elevator.

"That's okay, Tony," Jenny stopped him. "I can manage."

"You sure, Madame Director?" Tony asked. "'Cause all you forgot is your car key."

Gibbs noticed Ziva shake her head while Abby only stood tittering at the edge of the sidewalk. Jenny, however, was creasing her eyebrows.

"Common things that are forgotten," Tony mended, smiling sheepishly.

"Oh."

"I mean, it's okay if you don't want any company," Tony said.

"No, no, Tony. It's just that—" Jenny hesitated for a moment then, she shook her head. "Never mind."

"It's okay, Director Shepard," Ziva said. "You can say that Tony's odd. He had been that way. Always special."

Tony raised an eyebrow at her. "Very, _very _special," he responded, reserving the insult for another time. Jenny smile again. Ziva rolled her eyes. Gibbs only watched.

As soon as a viscous peace settled in, an angry grunt from a van immediately fractured it. Gibbs head a sharp hiss from the vehicle, originating from one of the windows. He traces its destination and saw Abby, as still as a statue and her eyes wide with shock. Tony and Ziva gyrated around at the same time.

In a swift moment, the van stopped to where Abby was. Its door opened then, a man jumped out, grabbing the already lethargic Goth by the waist. The other four poised to run to Abby's rescue, but then another man, clad in one of the all-too-familiar camouflage uniform, slid open a window and aimed his gun at them.

While the other man hauled Abby in, Gibbs knew that they would buy time. As the man with the weapon hooked a finger to the trigger, he knew that the men in the van would afford to risk lives.

"Tony!"

Tony, despite of his insistence to not let the men go, held his hands in front of them just in time of the bullets speeding through the air. All of the small metals froze instantaneously, shattering on the ground after they fell. The man had shut the door, the van back to the road, but the rain of bullets didn't stop.

Gibbs took out his gun from his holster and carefully, very carefully, aimed for the man's hands. His sight locked on the fist, the knuckles, the skin. He focused his eyes then, pulled his own defense. The man jerked up in surprise, letting go of his gun, and eventually had to withdraw his hands.

Gibbs glanced at Jenny. He saw the horrified expression on her face and took mental note to explain later. He aimed his gun back to the van, deciding where to shoot. "Jenny! Don't stand by!" he said. Jenny almost jumped up, nonetheless pulling out her own weapon and assisting Gibbs despite her confusion.

Tony, on the other hand, ran towards the vehicle, thinking about Abby. They could not take her. They _cannot _take her! She did not belong to where they were going to throw her to. Not in a military base. Not in a carnival. Not in a lab. He knew she was a fighter, but he was sure she would be afraid, too. He couldn't let that happen.

Unconsciously, his feet gained speed.

He remembered when Abby was little and use to bother him to play "Kingdom of Ellsworth" with her. She was always the princess who was taken by the vicious dragons, who hated pink and tea parties, but trusted on her prince to save her. He was supposed to save her. Back then, and right now.

Soon after, he was only a few meters away from the swerving van. He was careful and mindful of where the bullets, certainly from Jenny and Gibbs, were landing. Once more, he held out his hand and allowed ice to engulf it.

_What the—_ he heard one of the men think upon seeing him. "He's at our tail! Lose 'im!" The driver floored the gas pedal.

_The dragon got me, Tony! _he remembered Abby's little voice, chuckling as she announced her captivity. Tony ran faster.

"He's still there!"

"We're already running at 150!" the driver yelled.

"Well, stop the car! Let the fool knock himself out."

Before the red lights turned on, Tony switched to the right. He froze one of the doors then, smashed it open. Three pairs of plate-wide eyes darted towards him. As one of them took out an iron tube, where, he guessed, the sedative issued from, he jumped in and attacked them.

"We can't let them go," Gibbs said.

Ziva remained transfixed on her spot. She couldn't do anything. People—_outsiders_—were looking upon their every movement. Plus, she couldn't just flame up and 'trash' the van. Abby and Tony were still—

The van swerved again only this time, Tony jumped out, holding something close. It must be Abby. Then, when things have seemed to be resolved, the vehicle took a sharp turn. It headed to Tony's direction. "Gibbs!" she yelled, searching her pockets for the lighter.

Gibbs looked at her then, at Tony.

Her lighter. Where was it? She needed it. The van was getting closer, and Tony was unaware of it still. She needed her lighter to flame up. Where was it? Where? She saw Tony get up on his knees, swaying a bit, the bumper of the car inching towards him.

Ziva gasped. She took a step forward then, pushed her hands out, hoping for something that could help her brother.

She felt a ripple run down her arms, out of her fingers. It sliced through the evening air then, blew the van upward. The spectators semi-ducked when a loud explosion shouted. The large vehicle rolled a few feet above the ground for a short while before it fell threateningly to the ground.

Jenny turned to Gibbs with a stunned but awed expression on her face. "These are the people we're hiring?" she asked with incredulity, overwhelmed by what just took place.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Author's Note: Thank you to the following lovely people who left reviews yesterday! (Seriously. This is the fastest update I've done. Ever.)**_

_** Fullmetal Embers (rev) Yep! =D Ziva did steal the show, didn't she? And parts of the chapter were intended to be unclear to give way for Chapter Eleven's plot. *wink, wink***_

_** power214063 (rev) Yes, Tony and Ziva did. Well,with the help of Gibbs and Jenny, Tony mostly did the saving since he was the one who ran for Abby. Ziva saved Tony from being run over. And Kara attached a tracker behind Tim's ears, but it also "hears" everything that Tim hears, which will work for LaVoisier's advantage. :)**_

_**Disclaimer: NCIS does not belong to me, but to its proper owners.**_

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

_Reston, VA_

_Mallard Manor's Basement_

_5:10 AM_

Abby blindly felt the spot behind her neck where the needle hit her yesterday. Her vision, at times, was bleary, and she was still a bit giddy and sick with the chemical. She took a deep breath before hesitantly letting go.

Tony walked towards her with a glass of cold water, then sat beside her. Abby smiled at him wearily while she took it. "You okay?" he asked.

"A little bit," Abby nodded listlessly. "My brain's still hinky."

"Hinky?"

"New word I thought of," she grinned weakly. "You like it?'

"Sure," Tony smiled.

Abby slid the glass to her lips then slowly drank the water. As she lowered it afterwards, she noticed Ziva staring at her hands. No one told her of what happened yet, since she had just woken up. "Ziva?" she said hoarsely.

Ziva looked up from her lap to Abby, an exhausted disbelief lingering on her face. "Yeah?"

"Anything wrong?"

Ziva opened her mouth to speak, but Gibbs' brisk walk to the small television stopped her. Tony watched Gibbs, frowning. Abby only followed his movement with her eyes. "Maybe later," Ziva mumbled.

"Boss?" Tim said.

Gibbs punched the power button on, his phone tightly clenched in his other hand. "Watch," he said, directing the command at the four.

"A shocking kidnapping attempt took place yesterday at the base of Naval Criminal Investigative Service," a stern, middle-aged woman reported, an inkling of amazement in her voice. Tony and Ziva darted anxious glances at each other. "According to several eyewitnesses, a black van seen in this footage—" a video popped up on the screen, made up of tiny squares that formed a watered down picture— "rushed towards the main entrance of the said base where one unaware applicant stood. One of the men inside grabbed her, then took her inside the vehicle."

"I'm not an applicant!" Abby hissed under her breath. "I'm a trainee! They're lying!"

"They're the media, Abby," Tony raised his eyebrows. "They always lie."

"However," the reporter continued, "it was remarkable and unbelievable how another applicant, the older brother of the woman taken, shielded the director of NCIS and one of the senior agents as another man in the van began firing."

Gibbs was indignant and livid as they watched the event play frame by frame on the television. The four, all the while, gazed with utmost horror at the broadcast. Jenny called him earlier, telling him that someone had given the recordings from the security cameras over to ZNN without her permission. After they explained to her everything last night, she calmly, although also with difficulty as Tony and Ziva sensed, agreed to help in keeping their secret silent and hidden.

So when she warned Gibbs of the news, she sounded ireful herself.

"And now the FBI is getting involved in the search for these three to determine if they are involved in any terrorism—" Gibbs turned the TV off.

"Wow," Tony said. "That was…"

"Very detailed," Abby supplied.

"Gibbs," Ziva shot an uneasy look at him. "Gibbs, what are we going to do? A lot of outsiders have seen-have seen what we can do. It's going to be much easier for those scientists to find us."

"We have to go," Tim said. "We have to leave right now. Maybe to Europe. We can go to Estonia! Or maybe Asia. In provinces of Malaysia or even cities of China. Philippines, better yet!"

"We talked to the director about this already, didn't we? How did this happen?" Tony asked.

"Jenny knows everything?" Abby turned to him.

"We had no choice."

"Oh, they're going to catch us and kill us like frogs!"

"Hey," Gibbs spoke loudly, cutting them short. "Why are you all panicking? Calm down."

"Calm down?" Abby echoed. "Everyone is looking for us, and you want us to calm down?" She stood up from her seat, Tony quickly following her, then she stepped forward. "Now we need to run again. And I'm getting sick and tired—" she took another step towards him, but she lost balance and slowly fell forward.

"Abby," Tony caught her. He helped her stand up straight once more.

"I'm getting sick and tired, as I was saying," Abby continued, "of running away! For once I just want to stop. Somewhere. And maybe have a chance to miss Ducky and think about him, without wondering why I always have to wake up to a place that is so unfamiliar to me."

Gibbs stared at her, unable to discern whether to be sympathetic or firm. Soon, tears began coating her eyes. "Everything's changing, too. Everyone is, including me. I'm not sure if any of you are seeing it, but I have. I don't like it. And to make it worst, people have tried to kill us more than once." Abby swallowed hard, her throat aching unbearably. She looked at Gibbs' eyes. "We're human just like them, Gibbs. Why don't they get that?"

Gibbs shrugged slightly. "I don't know," he answered. "But one thing I do know is that I'm not going to leave you. Any of you. Wherever I go, you will go. I don't leave my people behind. Remember that."

A weak smile stretched across Abby's lips, conveying that she understood. Tony only stared at his house shoes, but he took the idea inside him, keeping it for later reassurance. Ziva nodded subtly. Tim, although fazed and divided by his thoughts, still memorized the words.

"Now dress up and grab your gears," Gibbs said, slipping on his black jacket.

Tim frowned. "Where are we going?" he asked.

"We're leaving Virginia."

"But, we cannot go to any airports. There will be people there," Ziva said.

"Who said we're riding any airplane?"

"Road trip?"

"Yep."

Abby grinned. "That's more I like it."

………………………………**......**

"You're selling them?"

LaVoisier's face was flushing red, his skin painted with anger. There. That was what he was waiting for. General Henry Cook leaned back on his swivel chair, a sly smirk on his mouth. "Yeah. Turns out, Anthony and Abigail can sell for over fifty million dollars each. Doctor Kozlov wasn't one to lose with those kind of beings. Researchers are great when they're really hungry for new materials."

"But we had a deal!"

"I know, I know," Henry said. "But we agreed that we will catch them so you would have materials for yourself. I've only put two of them up for sale. You can still have Ziva and Tim for yourself. I don't know what you'd do with the boy, but the girl seems to be improving a lot. She's a gem for experimentation."

"That's not what we agreed upon."

"We didn't also agree on you asking help from someone outside the deal," Henry countered. Contentment flowed in him as he saw Erik become speechless. "I'm aware of what you and Miss Kara Alex had been doing. You're getting subject three to fall for her so you can use him as bridge to the others."

"At least I'm doing something! Unlike you and your soldiers," Erik spat. He proceeded to the main computer, and then drew out two small memory cards from them.

"What are you doing?"

"The contract is of no effect at this moment," Erik said as he swiped the folders off the long tables and into his arms.

"You're quitting?"

Erik, after gathering all of the information and papers he supplied months ago, did not bother to answer. He walked out of the room.

Henry sighed. He picked up a nearby phone then pushed a button. "Hello? Security? Yes. This is General Henry Cook. A civilian would try to pass through there. His name's Erik LaVoisier. Make sure you don't let him out. Lock him up at Center Base, and I'll try to take care of him." He smiled. "Thank you."

He leaned back in his chair again, stretched, and then stared at the ceiling. Things just kept going according to plan. If he found the four subjects, then it would be a whole lot better.

Now, without LaVoiser, he was certain that that day would come running to him.

………………………………**......**

Tony and Ziva sat close in the car, their hoods up, and their glasses disguising their distinctive eyes. They stopped only a couple of minutes ago at a gas station, situated three hours away from Virginia, to buy breakfast. Gibbs got off, with Abby insisting on accompanying him. She morphed into a blonde teenager to convince him that she would not cause any trouble for them.

Tim, who sat between Tony and Ziva, pulled on his cap and glasses before jumping out of the car. He talked Gibbs into letting him out by saying that he was going to hack into the news channel's files to erase the videos and any other evidences of them being there. In order to do that, he needed to be out in the open.

Gibbs allowed him to come.

After telling Tony and Ziva to hide as best as they could from anyone's sight, the three left.

"I can also use stepping out of this car, you know," Tony complained.

"You and I the same, but if we don't follow Gibbs' order we're going to jeopardize all of us."

Tony clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Those people will always do anything to get us. I wish we could have been more careful."

Ziva nodded. She stopped as the scenario flashed in her mind. "Tony?"

"Hmm?"

"Have you always ran that fast?"

"Ran that fast? What are you talking about?"

"You caught up with the van."

"They were driving slow."

"No. They were not."

"Huh," Tony said. _We're already running at 150! _he remembered the driver yell. He grinned. "Cool."

"And my hands," Ziva stared at them with wonder.

"What about them?"

"When I flipped up that van, I didn't have my lighter."

"You started it yourself?"

"Yes. You do not remember me having done that during the DPR simulations, do you?"

"No," Tony shook his head. "No, I haven't."

"So we are…developing new abilities again?" Ziva asked, a smidgen of fear instilled in her.

"I don't know," Tony answered.

_More powers, Anthony, _Ducky would have imparted to him cheerfully if he was there. _Aren't you glad?_

_No, _he answered. _More powers mean more trouble._

_Aw, it's not that bad, _Ducky would console.

_It _is _bad. Mind-reading have given us enough problems. What more with being half-Iceman and half-Flash, _he thought. He turned his head towards the mini-store. The people who had been trying to catch them would have more motivation to move forward with their plans if they found out.

It would give Abby more reason to cry and to be hurt, and he surely wouldn't be glad for that.

………………………………**......**

Abby placed all the food she knew they would need on the counter. There was a delighted beam on her face as she hungrily absorbed every details of every food and drink.

"Would that be all?" Gibbs asked, his eyebrows raised and slightly creased, a credit card on his hand.

"Yeah," Abby nodded then, she gasped. "You think this would be enough for breakfast?"

"That would be enough food for a week," Tim commented after glancing at the pile.

She narrowed her small blue eyes at him. "Whatever," she said.

"Must be a long journey," the cashier said, smiling.

"Yeah." Gibbs handed her the credit card.

She began running the items under the scanner. She looked at Abby then chuckled. "Teenagers' appetite," she said.

"Can't stunt 'em."

"I know that's right. I have two of them, one five years away from being one."

Gibbs smiled. Abby crossed her arms, ready to make a defense for herself, when she realized what form she was in. She only feigned an embarrassed laugh.

Tim laughed. When he looked up, he saw a camera focused on them. It was watching their every movements, listening to every words they say. It would doubtlessly put them in danger.

He stared at it. At its edge was a small light the color of blood red. It was scrutinizing them. Patiently, Tim tapped his fingers on the counter, gazing back at it with determination.

After a few moments, the light began blinking. It was like the beat of a heart at first then, with superfluous fervor. Tim could see what it was seeing now. It was recording. Recording. Still recording.

Then the light died. It was off.

Tim smiled victoriously.

"Have a nice trip!" the cashier happily bid farewell.

"Bye," Abby waved, walking out of the door that Gibbs held open for her.

"Have a good day," Tim said before leaving.

The cashier watched Gibbs' car move out to the dusty road seconds later. She turned her attention back to the store and saw everything perfect. She checked the computer screen in front of her and then, she groaned. "We've just bought this camera," she exasperatedly spoke under her breath. "How on earth did it break?"


	11. Chapter 11

_**Author's Note: This is an edited version (for those who have read it when I posted it at NFA), so this is a teeny bit better! There were two comments last chapter that were so wonderful, so I have to give them a shoutout! =D**_

_**Hildis: The final chapters are coming at everyone fast! It's already finished, so I'll upload new chapters every day! Thanks for your review, by the way! :)**_

_**Mytana: Aw, thank you! I try my best at AUs so that everyone enjoys it. I hope you will also. Thank you! *hug!***_

_**Enjoy, everyone!**_

_**Disclaimer: Soni Junction at Alvada, OH is a real place, so it doesn't belong to me. Neither does NCIS and its characters!**_

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

_Alvada, OH_

_At a parking lot in Soni Junction_

_7:16 PM_

The clouds above the parking lot came with a great brooding. The swirling dark skies announced a hearsay of an unfortunate weather while the diminishing light spelled out a forthcoming storm. Trucks and cars alike sped by, their drivers in a toil to get home quickly before the lack of guiding light dawn upon them.

Gibbs looked above as he drew out his ringing phone. He pulled the gear shift into park, plucked the keys out, then threw them to Tony's lap. "I'll be back," he said before stepping out. After earning a few distance away from the car, he answered. "Yeah, Gibbs."

"Jethro," he heard Jenny's voice, but it sounded constricted.

"Jenny." He walked farther down, towards the back of a building, glancing at the four to make sure that they were not listening in. "Anything wrong?"

"Not yet," someone else answered. Gibbs stopped. "We do not know. Maybe there would not be at all if you cooperate."

"Well, I'm telling you right now that I'm as broke as squat," Gibbs calmly said. "Mister…?"

"Ra'am. Zuriel Ra'am. But I am not interested in your money. I have more concern with the four individuals you are with."

"They're not guilty of anything except having too big appetites," Gibbs laughed good-naturedly. "I believe that is _my _concern."

"Come on, Agent Gibbs. You and I both know that they have something else."

"You're right. They also have indistinguishable desire to put down people like you. What with you keeping them running, tiring them out, and now that you're holding Jenny, they will be more than happy to do that."

Laughter bubbled up from Zuriel. "I cannot wait for that day," he said. "Especially when I meet Timothy again."

"Again?"

"See, there are a lot of things that he had not told anyone. Madame Director warned me that you can sense it when people lie, but I do wonder. How come you did not know about Subject Three's ability to defend himself?"

"He can't."

"I have a person here," he heard Zuriel shuffle then Jenny gasp sharply, "that can attest to what one of your people had been lying about."

"Don't hurt her," Gibbs said, "or I will take you out myself."

"And like I have told you, she will not be if you give them up. It is a simple exchange."

"Don't. Don't do it—"

Gibbs heard a quick movement. Something fell heavily on the ground, and he was certain Jenny was tied to it. "I cannot promise you that she would not be damaged," Zuriel said indifferently.

"Forget it," Gibbs said. "I'm not going to hand them over to a person like you."

"Even for money?"

"We're going to take Jenny back, and you better be ready."

"I will be waiting."

Gibbs shut his phone. He could only hope that she would fair good until they arrived. Twelve hours seemed like a long time. _Fornell, _he thought. Surely, even if he would insist on knowing where the four were, he would still help with Jenny.

However, as he turned around to walk back to the car, a strong blow to the back of his neck knocked him unconscious. His phone fell on the pavement, and then it spun several times before stopping.

The clouds continued to clot, the violent wind waiting to howl. The sound of the engines had dissolved into mere memories.

The outsole of General Cook's shoes rested lightly on Gibbs' face as he turned it a bit towards him. He sighed contentedly. "Unit One and Unit Two, spread out," he spoke on his earpiece. "All we need is to trap the rats."

………………………………**......**

_Unit One and Unit Two, spread out. All we need is to trap the rats._

Tim bolted up from his sleep, filling the whole car with the sound of his irregular breathing. Ziva, who was leaning on his arms, asleep, stirred before waking up. Abby only switched position on the front seat before sleeping again.

Tony frowned at him, concerned on the sudden terror on the other's face. "Tim," he said. "Dream bothered you?"

Tim looked around. "Where's Gibbs?"

"He stepped out. Someone was calling. He left the keys with me," Tony shook the keys in Tim's sight.

"Gosh, Tony!" Abby said irritably. "Will you stop that? People are sleeping!"

"What is the matter, Tim?" Ziva looked up at him.

"They're here," Tim said nervously. "They got Gibbs. They found us."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. They?"

"General Cook and his soldiers," Tim said, reaching out to the door then opening it. Ziva stepped out hesitantly to let him out.

"Who's General Cook?" Abby asked, also getting out of the car. Tony followed them.

"I'll explain later," Tim said. "We have to find Boss first."

"Uh, okay," Tony creased his eyebrows. He surveyed the whole area, hands on his hips, while he thought of a tact for approach. "Divide and conquer," he decided.

"What about Tim?" Ziva asked.

"I'll be okay," Tim said, giving her a grateful smile.

"Are you sure about this? It's just a dream you're basing it on," Abby asked.

"It's not, Abby. Trust me."

"Fine," she sulked, although conscious of the seriousness in his tone.

"Abby, take west; Ziva, east; I'll take north. Tim, you stay here," Tony commanded. "Find Boss quickly. If anything happens, try your best to get back here."

"Gotcha," Abby said before she began running.

Tony nodded at Tim before leaving.

"Tim—"

"I'm alright, Ziva," Tim smiled. "The most important thing right now is for us to find Gibbs. We can't run without him."

Ziva nodded. "Take care," she said.

"You, too." As she left, he watched her with guilt. "You, too."

**………………………………****......**

Tony scrutinized the landscape that stretched in front of him. He had ran some miles away from the parking lot, but he did not find Gibbs anywhere. "Timmy, Timmy, Timmy," he muttered. "If this is one of your jokes, I'm going to freeze your butt so cold that you'd be mistaken as Antarctica."

"Got Subject One, General Cook," he heard someone speak in a low tone.

Tony turned around and then saw five men in camouflage uniforms standing in front of him. "Hello," he said, at the same time allowing frigid ice to crawl upward from his fingertips.

The men were pointing their guns at him. He could sense their pulses, their thoughts. Tony smiled. They were valiant but somehow scared.

"This would all go smoothly if you surrender now," one of them said.

"I highly doubt that," Tony said matter-of-factly.

"Listen, kid. We don't want to hurt you."

"Really?" he asked with sarcasm. "Wow. I never thought of that. I was kind of assuming that since you work for ruthless megalomaniacs that you'd be tough, too. I mean, come on! You're going to treat us kindly then lead us to the feast! With scientists and their scalpels and chain saws! How realistic would that be?"

"You left us with no choice."

Tony glanced at the skies. "You think it would rain tonight?"

"Shut it, kid."

"Hmm. Too early, huh?"

"I said shut it!"

"Have you ever seen yourselves as ice sculptures before?"

They lifted up their guns.

Tony walked towards them, hands at the ready. "Oh, I really wish you would," he said.

**………………………………****......**

Ziva began throwing punches as soon as she have melted all of opponents' weapons. Kick. Slap. Elbow. Kick. It did not matter who received it.

In the middle of her fight, there was one question that troubled her: how did Tim know all of these people were there?

**………………………………****......**

"And I finally meet you."

"General Cook," Tim said, restricting the dread inside him. He faced him.

"You know my name," Henry replied, a mild delight in his tone. "Ah, I shouldn't be surprised! Zuriel had told me about you."

"Then why don't you just leave us alone? You know how this is going to end up."

Henry chuckled, shaking his head. "It's not that easy, my dear boy. Not as simple as you think."

"Try me."

The older man took ample steps toward Tim. The latter, meanwhile, read the former's mind. There was nothing but uncanny amusement and perhaps some configuration of a tact. Tim looked at his eyes.

Gibbs. He took Gibbs.

Zuriel. He ordered him to take Jenny.

When Henry was only a few meters away from the young man, he smiled. "I take Anthony and Abigail, and you and Ziva die," he said.

"You were right. It's not easy."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah," he nodded pensively. "You think you know everything about us, but you don't. You've made a lot of mistakes. You lost, Cook. You lost."

The smiled slipped off Henry's face. He took his gun out of its holster. "Not if you—"

He screamed in pain as a black hawk swooped down and clawed his hands. He dropped the weapon when the dirt in the air seared his skin. Using the other hand, he sealed it.

The hawk did another circle around the ground before it landed beside Tim. As it did, the dark feathers shrunk back and the tip of the wings formed fingers. Its body took shape. Its talons morphed into feet, beak into lips.

Abby placed a hand on her hips. "Threaten Tim again, and you'll get worse than scratches," she said.

"He have Gibbs and Jenny," Tim told her.

"I'm guessing this is the fools' leader," Tony walked to Abby's side, slight boredom on his face. Ziva also came and stood beside Tim.

Henry glared at all of them. "None of you can do anything else. It's going to be a battalion against the four of you," he said.

"You think we're not trained for that?" Ziva asked.

Henry sought any weak points, any expressions from their faces, any information he could use. There was no way that he would surrender to these inferior humans. They were not normal. It was their destiny to be caged and be sold. It was their destiny to submit under the mercy of normal people—powerful people—like him.

If only there was something. If only there was—

He found it. "You made a lot of mistakes, too, Timothy," he said. "Don't you remember?" Tim frowned. "If you didn't let Zuriel go, this would have never happened."

"Zuriel?" Ziva turned to Tim. He didn't answer, but his heart began racing.

"You didn't tell them?" Henry asked. He laughed when he saw their puzzled faces. "Zuriel Ra'am was an assassin I hired to capture all of you. He was there in Nevada. He was going to your rooms, but Tim followed his team. I told them to divert and distract him, but it didn't work. We failed."

"What do you mean…it didn't work?" Tony asked.

"Tony, it's not important," Tim said.

"He brought down six people, Zuriel one of them. I never did get a footage of how it happened, but knowing that two of the men are still on recovery today, I don't think I need anymore evidence."

"You can fight?" Abby asked Tim. "Is that what you were asking me the other night? What you were doing behind our backs?"

"No. Abby, please—"

"And I assume that he didn't tell you that he have known us." Henry suppressed an overwhelming pride in his chest. "Why do you think he knows my name? Plus, basing on how fast all of you reacted, he knew we were coming. Now, why is that?"

"Tim?" Tony faced him, suspicion rooting through his mind.

He saw their faces, shocked and curious. He had caught their weakest spot, and it was where one hit could easily kill them. "Why don't you answer, Tim?"

"I don't have to," Tim replied, eyes on the ground.

"But you do," Henry insisted. "You lied to the people you've been with for a long time."

"Tim, why didn't you tell us?" Ziva asked.

"Just tell us the truth," Abby said.

"Tim," Tony said again.

"You knew a lot, but you didn't say anything. It's your fault."

"You don't have to listen to him."

"We'll let this go, don't worry. But why?"

"Tim."

"Tim."

"Stop."

"You killed your father, too. You also have to tell them that," Henry said.

Four hearts froze. "What?" Abby asked in a whisper.

"Go on, Timothy. Tell them," Henry urged. At a distance, he could hear helicopters coming in to the perimeter. At one moment, he wondered if they could read his thoughts, but they were seemingly engrossed with the bomb he had just dropped. "Tell them about your argument with Doctor Mallard. Tell them how angry you were at him."

"No," Tim looked up. "It was a mistake."

"You found out his decision about your siblings and about you, and that was why you were upset."

"Is this true?" Tony asked Tim.

"Yeah, you were mad at him, Timothy. You hated him until the moment he left. You hated him when he died. You hated him for leaving you behind. You were supposed to tell them, but you didn't. You didn't want to."

"Tell us what?" Ziva demanded.

Henry paused to take a step closer. "That your parents have contacted Doctor Mallard, asking all of you back," he said. "But there was a problem with it, Tim, wasn't there?"

"Tim, you better speak," Tony said. "This is getting out of control, and you need to come clean."

Tim attempted to talk, but his lungs had deprived him of air. His voice had depleted, and his heart beat overwhelming. He breathed deeply before trying again. "Duck…Ducky received a letter three weeks before he came back to Antarctica," Tim began. "Those were letters from Anthony DiNozzo Sr., Tony's dad; Rachel Sciuto, Abby's, and possibly my, mom; and from Eli David, Ziva's father. They said they made mistakes. They just want their own child back. Ducky talked to them, and he was convinced that they were serious about it.

"He told me because he said he knew I would understand. He said he had to let us go. I got selfish, maybe am still selfish. I didn't want him to give us back," Tim said. "I never wanted to."

"What's wrong with going back home, Tim?" Abby asked him.

"She didn't want me back, Abby," he answered. "You were going home, but I wasn't."

"That's why you crashed Doctor Mallard's plane that day," Henry said calmly, feigning affection. "You didn't want him to tell them."

Tim remembered that night again. There were codes as he hacked, but he wasn't sure they made sense. Was it possible? That out of his contempt that he had willed Ducky's plane to crash?

"Did you kill Ducky?" Ziva asked tearfully.

Tim looked at them with tear-glazed and guilty eyes. "I didn't mean to," he said.

Henry smothered a dawning smile of victory. The helicopters were upon them, and the four didn't even notice.

Tim heard Ziva and Abby sobbing under their breaths, beneath their courageous faces. Tony had started looking up at the choppers, his vision away from him, but he knew he was angry.

_Did you do it, Tim? _Tony thought. _Did you?_

_I…I did but…_

_But what? Did you even regret killing Ducky afterwards?_

Tim didn't answer. Instead, he thought about that night. The plane had crashed. The codes on the computer screen watched him in silence. Did he regret it? He became afraid of the answer when it came. He didn't. He was sorry that Ducky's dead, but he didn't regret what he had done.

A swift hit on the face sent Tim on the dusty ground. He felt his nose break, and he tasted the blood on his lips. He didn't see Ziva stepping between him and Tony; all he saw was Tony's merciless eyes.

"Tony!" Ziva said.

"We have to go find Gibbs then end all of this craziness," he told both women. "I'm getting tired of this routine." He walked towards the car. He stopped. "We leave the traitor behind."

Abby didn't protest, but glanced back at her brother only once. Ziva dragged herself away from Tim. Before going into the car, she fired at a helicopter. Tony, as they drove away, froze vehicles and soldiers that they passed.

In only minutes, Tim's family was gone.

He staggered up to his feet, lost and unable to recover. It was his fault. All of it was his fault.

Henry walked closer to him, sliding a hand inside his pocket. "That's why you don't go against me, Subject Three," he chuckled. "I know what I'm doing."

"You won already," Tim spat. "What else do you want?"

"Na-uh-uh," Henry said. "I haven't yet." He observed Tim's peaceful face before continuing. "Did you forget? I haven't killed you yet." He fastened a left hand on Tim's shoulder, and Tim felt a sharp stab to his stomach. His gasp was loud and short-lived while his eyes were wide.

As Tim fell forward, unconscious, General Cook held him. "There, there, dear boy," he said. "I'm sure Dr. Kozlov will make sure you feel at home in his lab."

* * *

**Four more chapters to go, so please REVIEW! =)**


	12. Chapter 12

_**Author's Note: Thanks to these three wonderful people who left reviews!**_

_**Fullmetal Embers: I'll post a chapter everyday this week, so I won't leave you wondering. Well, not yet. ;) Thanks, Embers! You're awesome!**_

_**fallen-wolfborn: I try my best for the readers. I just wish everyone enjoys it. . . *blushes* Thanks for your review!**_

_**Hildis: Thank you! Hug!**_

_**Finally, I've been to WPAFB, but I haven't see its entirety. It just seemed to fit my description, so I set it there. :D And no. People there are not evil in real life. (Ooh! The times in this chapter are overlapping, too. Just want to let all of you know =D)**_

_**Disclaimer: Wright Patterson AFB at Fairborn, OH is a real place, so it doesn't belong to me. Neither does NCIS and its characters.**_

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* * *

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**Chapter Twelve**

_Wright Patterson Air Force Base_

_Fairborn, OH_

_6:29 PM_

Tim shut his eyes tighter the moment he felt the cold water come in contact with his skin. He took ample amount of air before opening his eyes. He tasted the sterility of the room: the over polished floor where alcohol seemed to have been used, the different chemicals, and the thickness of Lysol blanketing the whole area. He coughed as he staggered to his feet.

In front of him, Zuriel smiled. He was adjusting a thick, black glove on his hand while watching him with amusement. "I have not seen you for weeks, Subject Three," he said, pulling the Velcro strap around his wrist.

Tim swallowed. He looked around and noticed that they were in a large, empty room. Some feet above one wall, he saw mirrors. He stared at it for a while. He knew exactly what it was for. "It was good while it lasted," he said. "Now where's Gibbs?"

"You will see him in a bit," Zuriel replied. "For the moment, we have to settle something."

Tim could read his mind, and he saw an entrenched anger in it. Zuriel smiled, but he craved vengeance. He was humiliated, and at that point he demanded vindication.

Zuriel swiftly advanced towards Tim, fist at the ready. He swung it to his opponent's face. Before it touched him, Tim grabbed Zuriel's wrist effortlessly, pulled it away, then hit him on the nose. The latter skidded a few steps back, heaving his breath.

Tim only glared at him. He saw him clench his jaw, and then he balled his gloved fist tightly. Instantaneously, bolts of electricity sliced underneath his skin. He felt as if there were small knives searing through his neck. The pain weakened his legs, it pulled his eyes shut, and brought him on his hands and knees to the floor.

Zuriel took the opportunity to lift his foot up and kick Tim. He pushed the trigger button between his gloves harder, and the result was evident in front of his eyes. He gazed upon Tim's violently shaking body; he savored his low-toned scream. Then, he delivered another hit, another kick, another kick.

He was not to live.

After a while, he paused. As merciless as he wanted to be, he still had orders. "Live like a dog, die like a dog," he said under his breath, regarding the metal choker wrapped around Tim's neck with intense grudge. He walked away.

Tim, though quivering, got back to his feet, salty blood throbbing on his softly torn lips. "Eight," he said. Zuriel halted. "That's how many times you hit me." Zuriel spun to face him. "And yet you didn't finish." Tim took hold of the choker, eyeing the other with wrath.

"Do not bother to remove your _collar, _Subject Three. It will not open until Dr. Kozlov unlocks it."

Tim wasn't listening. Underneath his palm, under the chrome metal, he willed the small bolts to shuffle, the wires to untangle, the microchip to fail function. He tore the necklace open, and then he dropped it. He took steps forward, the next movement quicker than the last.

Then, after warding off Zuriel's oncoming hit, Tim rammed the base of his palm to his opponent's sternum. He swung his right leg upwards, to the other's face, with precision. Zuriel fell with a loud thud, his eyes shut, mouth slightly ajar.

Tim stared at the immobile body in front of him. He did not want to do it again, knock another man out of consciousness, but he had to. He was tired. The memory of Tony, Abby, and Ziva leaving him made him weary. All of those years pretending that he was none like them have lost its sense. He only did that to be with them, not to deceive them.

He knew also that these men were going to toy with his mind, to constantly blame him for the mistakes he made that drove him to his lost. They would use it to make him do what they wanted, as if they were attaching strings to a puppet. He couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

Two loud claps echoed throughout the vast room. The sliding door wheezed open, and it produced General Cook, several soldiers, and who Tim supposed was a Russian scientist that would be more than willing to cut him open. He wished that Tony, Abby, and Ziva would not have the displeasure of meeting the person one day.

"And that," General Cook said, a wide grin on his face, "is how a person should fight." Tim looked at him with contempt. "I have to say I doubted Zuriel's statements when they tried to get to all of you in Nevada, but you just disproved my suspicion."

Tim did not say anything.

"Alright, I can see that you're still a bit shaken up. That's okay," General Cook nodded. He walked around Tim, faintly wondering how he could be useful to him. "Besides single-handedly destroying a team of seven men, what else can you do? What else did you lie about?'

Tim remained quiet.

General Cook gave a laugh that was barely audible. "Come on. Be nice to Dr. Kozlov. All of the questions I'm asking you are to help him on a research. You like helping people, didn't you? You basically worked as a slave for those three you call 'siblings', yet they abandoned you. Dr. Nikolai Kozlov, I'm sure, won't. He'll make sure you feel very, very unique."

Tim's eyes filled up with boredom.

"I can share a secret with you, but you have to tell us one of yours also." General Cook moved closer to Tim, making sure his mouth was close enough to the young man's ear, and then began to whisper. "I was the one who killed Doctor Mallard," he said, then drew back. He felt anger expanding inside Tim's soul; hopefully, he would succeed in drawing the truth out. "I ordered someone to grease the plane and trash its system. You were saving your father that night," he added. He took a pondering expression before turning back to him. "Huh. I guess I messed up that part. Anthony, Abigail, and Ziva thought you were the murderer, while I was just the informant.

"See, I know what the four of you can do. Except you, for the time being. You may be powerful beings, but you still have a hero's pitfall. Once I attack the heart, all of you gave in in just one snap."

"A bunch of cliché junk, if you ask me," Tim said.

"Oh, yeah?" General Cook asked, pleased. "How's that?"

"What made you think they were not reading your rotten attic, Cook?" Tim hoped that it was not obvious how he was reversing the mind game that was being played. He had too much rage as the older man's confession rang repeatedly through his head, but he had to save it for later. He decided that there was one worse thing that he could do to General Cook compared to making him lose a tooth or two.

"Because they left you."

"And if I told them to go? Then where does that leave you?" Tim asked. General Cook's smirk didn't falter, but Tim knew he was getting irked. "I programmed one DPR simulation that was just like this base. Tony knows the drill. We could easily shut this place down."

"By what? By having Abigail transform into some pesky insect, Anthony to freeze our backsides off, and Ziva to turn into a stove? You're at a high-tech base, kid. Whatever they can do, we can match it."

"You forgot about me."

"Yeah. Smart mouth the life out of everybody," General Cook laughed. "Listen to yourself. You hold on to these false hope. You're nothing but an experiment material. Since the first day you were born to your first mind-reading. So give up. You're nothing but a speck on the glass. You don't belong anywhere."

Tim ignored the old insecurity roused up in him. He had to save it for later. He decided that there was one worse thing that he could do to him compared to making him lose a tooth or two. "High technology," he said, making an estimation of the system's control over the place. "So you're basically telling me that I won?"

"What?"

"Besides mind-reading and, well, embarrassing you and your soldiers," Tim smiled, "I have the ability to will certain wires, certain circuits, even certain programs to do whatever I please. All of them, actually."

_They're here, General Cook, _Tim heard someone report. It originated from General Cook's earpiece. Tim smiled wider.

He continued. "I have a certain magnetic pull on things. I can move around information across the globe, even the most secretive ones. I can create them, efface them, tamper with them. Anything."

"And that makes you a hacker," General Cook pointed out.

"No. As you outsiders call it, that makes me a technopath," he said. "So this high-tech base? It's under my control now."

**………………………………****......**

_Wright Patterson Air Force Base_

_Fairborn, OH_

_6:10 PM_

"Jethro? Jethro, are you okay?"

Gibbs awakened to a gentle touch on his shoulder. He blinked as blinding light pierced his eyes and for a second, made it burn. He let out a low tone grunt as he repositioned himself, sitting more upright on the floor. His neck gave a muffled crack when he leaned it on the side.

"Watch it," Jenny told him. "You might break your neck."

Gibbs sighed. He looked around the room before turning to Jenny. "Where are we?" were the first words that issued from his mouth.

"Base in Ohio. That's as much as I've heard from them."

"Where's my team?"

"Probably at the Naval Base, wondering where you ran to."

"No. My other team."

"I'm not really sure," Jenny answered, her tone quieter. "I heard them talking about looking for Tony and the girls."

Gibbs creased his eyebrows. "Where's Tim?"

Jenny hesitated to answer, worried that it might aggravate Gibbs. It was horrible enough that they were held hostage while the four was out there without them. She wasn't sure how he would take it that one of them might already be dead.

"Jenny," Gibbs urged gravely.

"They caught him," Jenny answered. "I'm sorry."

_You were the first person I thought of to take care of them. _"So Tony and Abby and Ziva escaped?" Gibbs asked, attempting to hide his rage and disappointment. Even if he tried not to, he wondered if Tim was already gone. "Did they even help Tim?"

"They did what they could, I guess."

It all came back to him now. He was talking to a man—Zuriel, he remembered—and he had Jenny. Then there was a painful blow on his neck before he blacked out. His team. Ducky's kids. He left them in the car. Abby was asleep. Ziva was asleep. Tony had just woken up. Tim was asleep.

And now he was gone.

"It's those men's fault. Not your team, not yours," Jenny interrupted his thoughts.

Gibbs stood up from his spot then headed to the thick, metal door. He tried the door knob, yanking it upward then downward determinatively , but it didn't open. It remained stone-hard and cold. He searched for a vent at the ceiling next. Still none. He scrutinized the room for any escape, his mind dominated by one plan.

"They made sure we'll be here until they decide to get rid of us," Jenny imparted.

"I'm not waiting for that time, Jen," Gibbs muttered, busily moving a rack out of the way. "Are you okay, by the way? Did they do anything to you?"

"No. Not really. He didn't do anything. I think they just wanted to—" _get you away from the four so they could get to them, _she thought but decided not to say it.

"They wanted to what?"

"They wanted to make sure that the people who knew about them would shut up," Jenny mended. "They may have figured that I knew something about it."

Gibbs nodded thoughtfully before he resumed combing the whole room for an exit. Office furnitures bumped into each other as he moved them out. It would have been useful if he had his gun, but he knew they confiscated it before banishing him into that room. "It's gotta be here somewhere," he mumbled.

The lock of the door clicked loudly, and it sent Gibbs to face it. As expected, those vaguely gray-skinned, almost lifeless soldiers stood outside. To what he could see, the man who planned all of it was not among them. He had to wait. "What. Time for dinner now?" he asked. When he walked close to Jenny, weapons shot up towards him.

He glowered at them, but still lent a hand to Jenny to help her up. Jenny took his offer. She mumbled something inaudible, and then got up.

Immediately, the men grabbed them on their arms and dragged them out of the room. Gibbs supposed he could overpower them, with Jenny's help. They were young soldiers, but they appeared merciless and without a mind of their own. It was then he decided that he couldn't let his anger out on them. They were just following orders.

After almost a mile of empty corridors, they were pushed inside a room where other men stood, watching something outside the window. One of them, wearing stronger hues of a camouflage suit, turned around. He smiled at them, a deceptive peace on his face, and then spoke. "Director Shepard," he nodded at Jenny, "Agent Gibbs," he glanced at Gibbs, "I do apologize for the inconvenience in your room. Apparently, it's the only room where we can keep guests in."

He carried on viewing something out of the window. "I'm General Henry Cook, by the way," he added.

"You're the one who have been running after us," Gibbs said.

"You can say that."

"What do you want with them, General?" Jenny asked defensively. "They have been living in peace on their own, so why didn't you just leave them alone?"

"Ah, it's not much about what _I _wanted," he answered. "These researchers. They wanted new material and well, I help them with it. I'm just in it for the ride."

"They're not lab rats," Jenny countered. "I hope you recognize that—"

"Spare me the humanity speech, Director—"

"They're my responsibility. They're my people."

General Cook remained quiet for a while. Then, he scoffed. "Then we don't have any difference. We're trying to catch them to be ours, you're declaring them to be yours. We do not have much difference."

Jenny continued scowling at General Cook, and it was visible to Gibbs. "Where's Tim?" Gibbs asked.

"Oh, you'll see him in a second." General Cook clicked his tongue. "Poor kid. His siblings left him to us. You should've seen his face. If he wasn't already paid for, I would have let him go."

"What do you mean, they left him to us?" Gibbs asked.

"I told them the truth, and they left him to us. I kind of felt bad when Anthony hit him in the face. If they only knew that I was only telling them some truth," General Cook shook his head with pity. "I told them that Tim had been lying to them, to all of you. He injured most of my soldiers when all of you were in Nevada. He even inflicted some damage on the assassin I hired."

"Tim can't fight."

"He very, very much can, Agent Gibbs. And not only that, he was also hacking into Doctor Mallard's airplane system the day he died."

"He killed him?" Jenny asked skeptically.

"That was what _they _thought," General Cook stated. "But if only they knew that I messed up with the plane's wires and system first, it would have been a different story. So I left out that part."

"You pinned it on him?"

"It's not a big deal. One less freak in this world, who really cares? He's going to be more useful for research and all of the other things to make people better."

"You said he was paid for," Gibbs said.

General Cook shrugged. "Eh, you know. School science labs pay fifty-sixty bucks for cats and frogs. Government labs pay thirty million dollars for a mind reading kid. Same same. You have to dissect those things one way or another."

Gibbs lost his stance and his sight grew dimmer. All he could see was General Cook, and his muscles had constructed one single agenda for him to do. He stepped forward, lifted his fist to hit the other. The soldiers were quick to hold him back, although his suddenly strong force made it harder for them to do so.

General Cook snickered. "Uh-uh-uh, Agent Gibbs. Remember, you're in my domain. You don't try things like that."

One tech looked up at him. "He's awake, General," he said.

"Good," General Cook mumbled. He gestured at the soldiers holding Jenny and Gibbs, and then they were shoved to the window.

Both of them watched Tim get up to his feet. Relief flooded inside them, especially Gibbs. However, Tim being alive, he predicted that the men around them had other plans for him. "I have not seen you for weeks, Subject Three," the other man said. Gibbs supposed it was Zuriel, basing on his voice.

"It was good while it lasted," Tim answered, his voice raspy, after looking around the room. "Now where's Gibbs?"

"You will see him in a bit. For the moment, we have to settle something."

It bothered Gibbs that Tim seemed to be familiar with Zuriel. He didn't give away the suspicions clotting in him; he didn't want General Cook to be more pleased. He continued to observe upon the two men. Zuriel was attacking and Tim didn't move at first but—he shielded himself off from the opponent then struck him.

_I don't think he can even fight for his own life, _Tony's assumption echoed through his head. He was wrong, very wrong, and he was not quite absolute on how to react about it.

Next, Zuriel clenched his hands. Tim fell to the floor, shook by an invisible enemy. Zuriel spitefully kicked him and hit him repeatedly. Tim rolled around the floor, each time after a strike trying to regain his posture, but he failed.

Gibbs heard a mumble from Zuriel, but it was slurred. Then, he walked away. "Eight," Tim said, pushing himself up against the pull of gravity. "That's how may times you've hit me. And yet you didn't finish."

"Do not bother removing your collar, Subject Three," Zuriel said as soon as Tim touched the metal choker. "It will not open until Dr. Kozlov unlocks it."

Tim did not appear to be listening. He removed the metal easily, his eyes full of wrath. He advanced forward. Gracefully, he moved. A hit. A kick. Zuriel crashed to the floor, unconscious.

General Cook gave a contented sigh. "Let us in there, Briggs," he commanded the tech before descending to a flight of stairs, a scientist and several soldiers in tow.

General Cook applauded twice as they entered the room. "And that," he said, "is how a person should fight. I have to say I doubted Zuriel's statements when they tried to get to all of you in Nevada, but you just disproved my suspicion."

Tim did not say anything.

"Alright, I can see that you're still a bit shaken up. That's okay," General Cook walked around Tim. "Besides single-handedly destroying a team of seven men, what else can you do? What else did you lie about?"

Tim remained quiet.

General Cook gave a laugh that was barely audible. "Come on. Be nice to Dr. Kozlov. All of the questions I'm asking you are to help him on a research. You like helping people, didn't you? You basically worked as a slave for those three you call 'siblings', yet they abandoned you. Dr. Nikolai Kozlov, I'm sure, won't. He'll make sure you feel very, very unique."

Tim's eyes filled up with boredom.

"I can share a secret with you, but you have to tell us one of yours also." Gibbs saw General Cook whisper something to Tim. The young man's expression did not change, but he knew that whatever he was told, it bothered him. "I ordered someone to grease the plane and trash its system. You were saving your father that night," General Cook said. "Huh. I guess I messed up that part. Anthony, Abigail, and Ziva thought you were the murderer, while I was just the informant.

"See, I know what the four of you can do. Except you, for the time being. You may be powerful beings, but you still have a hero's pitfall. Once I attack the heart, all of you gave in in just one snap."

"A bunch of cliché junk, if you ask me," Tim said.

"Oh, yeah?" General Cook asked, pleased. "How's that?"

"What made you think they were not reading your rotten attic, Cook?" Tim asked.

"Because they left you."

"And if I told them to go? Then where does that leave you?" Tim asked. "I programmed one DPR simulation that was just like this base. Tony knows the drill. We could easily shut this place down."

"By what? By having Abigail transform into some pesky insect, Anthony to freeze our backsides off, and Ziva to turn into a stove? You're at a high-tech base, kid. Whatever they can do, we can match it."

"You forgot about me."

"Yeah. Smart mouth the life out of everybody," General Cook laughed. "Listen to yourself. You hold on to these false hoped. You're nothing but an experiment material. Since the first day you were born to your first mind-reading. So give up. You're nothing but a speck on the glass. You don't belong anywhere."

"High technology," he said, making an estimation of the system's control over the place. "So you're basically telling me that I won?"

"What?"

"Besides mind-reading and, well, embarrassing you and your soldiers," Tim smiled, "I have the ability to will certain wires, certain circuits, even certain programs to do whatever I please. All of them, actually."

Even if he couldn't see Tim's eyes, his devious smile allowed an insight for Gibbs to what would happen next. There was something inevitable, perhaps something unforgivable, that was reserved for General Cook. He did not know what it was, but it already raised red flags inside his head.

The doors to the room swung open. Gibbs and Jenny turned. Seeing the individuals, Gibbs frowned. It wasn't a disapproving frown, but a curious, slightly resentful frown.

**………………………………****......**

"Green Kite to Tower One, Green Kite to Tower, we're in the perimeter. Confirming for landing sites."

"Tower One to Green Kite, head Northeast to Central Base. Landing site there is clear."

"Roger that."

"Where have you been anyways? General Cook had been looking for all of you. You vanished all of a sudden."

"We were running after the others. Can't afford to lose 'em."

"Did you catch them?"

"Oh, we have them alright," Tony grinned back at Ziva and Abby, who both smiled with him.

"Well. At least you have good news to atone yourselves for."

"Yep."

"See you at the base, Paxton."

"Roger that," Tony said, then flicked the radio switch off.

"Thanks for agreeing to come back, Tony," Abby said, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

"We can't let them do anything horrible to him," Tony said, staring at the bluish clouds as he steered the controls. He was still upset, but he couldn't allow those scientist to savage Tim. After all, the latter had always been like his younger brother. There was also a nagging feeling in him that he was being unjust by abandoning Tim and believing that General. "Besides, after we rescue him and Gibbs, I'll kick his little butt so bad that he won't lie to us anymore."

Ziva, who leaned back on the seat beside Tony, crossed her arms and smiled lightly. "Kick his butt we will," she echoed.

* * *

**Reviews are always loved! *nods***


	13. Chapter 13

_**Author's Note:**__** To the following who posted reviews yesterday! Yay to you guys!**_

**_power214063: (spoiler) They will in the future. ;) Thanks for reviewing!_**

**_FullMetal Embers: Thanks! Your revs always make me smile!_**

**_hildis: Hehehe...The suspense will keep you coming. . . (Just kidding! Thanks!)_**

_**Disclaimer: Wright Patterson AFB, NCIS and its characters do not belong to me. They belong to their proper owners. . .**_

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

_Wright Patterson Air Force Base_

_Fairborn, OH_

_6:25 PM_

Tony tried to yank himself out of the chains that bound his hands, but it only seemed to get tighter. Ahead of him, he saw a group of three soldiers walking towards them. They were laughing at some silent joke, and it made Tony's temper rise up. If only he could get to them at that moment and tear away those mocking grins. If only he could.

The man behind them stopped in his tracks, forcing him and Ziva to do the same. "Afternoon, gentlemen," he greeted.

"Afternoon, sir," one of them responded. Then, he eyed Tony and Ziva with interest. "I see you've caught the targets, sir."

"Indeed. Now, you don't happen to know where the other one is, do you? The one they brought in earlier?"

They furrowed their eyebrows. Ziva heard one of them wondering why the man would bother asking when he should know where to bring them. She glanced behind her.

"Look," the man said, "we've shot tranquilizers to these two, and they're not falling. They're a bit dizzy, and I'm not waiting 'till they snap out of it. You saw the footages of them, didn't you? So again, I'll ask you, do you know where the other one is?"

"At one of the Control Rooms, sir; hall to the left, fifth door," one answered.

The man glowered at the three. "See you at the General's office later, cadets," he said before prodding his hostages to move on.

Tony checked if the three men were still near them, but they were already turning to a corner, their expressions describing their confusion and nervousness. "Indeed," he mimicked the man's answer, grinning.

"Shut up, Tony," the man spat under his breath, finally releasing the tension he had been holding.

Ziva glanced back at him as they walked forward. "Do not pay attention to him, Abby," she said. "You were convincing."

"That's why you're my favorite sister," the man said, narrowing his eyes at Tony.

"But she _is _your only sister, Abby," Tony pointed out.

"Not with the way you're acting."

Ziva snickered quietly. Tony scowled at her. "Where's the room again?"

"Fifth door," Ziva responded when they turned left. She nodded, gesturing to the end of the corridor. "Down there."

"Okay, ladies," Tony said. "Play cool. If Timmy's not there, we should insist to see him."

_Like there's any other way, _Abby thought.

The farther the three of them went, the quieter it got. The only sounds they could hear were the echoes of their shoes colliding with the dull floor. Tony and Ziva remained chained, although they grew a bit relaxed. Abby stared at the brightness of the fluorescent lightings and the darker contrast of the walls.

They couldn't help but wonder if there was anyone listening to their thoughts and watching their movements. The stale, cold air provided an illusion of an entity following them. Perhaps another person, or maybe even more. Maybe something that was swollen with lies and secrets, and it was just waiting for them to make the right move before it spills the truth.

Tony stopped in front of a tall, metal door. "There it is. Take it away, Abby," he said, posing an emcee's enthusiasm in his voice.

The man held his breath once more. He slipped his lightly wrinkled and stubby fingers on the knob, and then turned it. He pushed Ziva and Tony inside as the door opened. He was aware of the eyes that might analyze and critique his movements, like a jury to a criminal, so he had to be careful.

When he saw Gibbs, he had to restrain a smile from coming up. Gibbs was looking at him in a funny way; to all three of them, actually. Of course, he didn't know who was right then, but he would later on.

"Lieutenant Adams," the soldiers in the dark room stood up, alert.

"I was told to bring them here," the man said with authority, finally shoving Tony and Ziva to their knees. "Don't want these ones out now, do we?"

"No, sir."

"Where is the other one, anyways? Is he here also?" the man asked.

"Yes, sir," one of them stepped closer. He pointed out to the window. "Out there, with General Cook."

The man shrugged. "Mind if I look at it?"

"No, sir. Go ahead, sir."

The man gave a grateful nod before closing in at the window. His heart almost skipped when he saw Tim, his mouth softly torn, blood smeared on his cheek, flowing from his lips. His face was red, yet he knew he was being patient. General Cook was a few meters away from him, smiling, a man in a white coat standing behind him.

_Tim is down there, guys, _Abby thought. Tony swallowed with relief while Ziva smiled. _But I think they're experimenting on him. There's this scientist behind, taking notes—_

"Where's Abby?" Gibbs asked tersely, directing it to no one in particular.

"Somewhere," the man chuckled.

One of the techs pressed a button. "They're here, General Cook," he said quietly.

Abby saw Tim smile. She wasn't sure if he knew that they were there. There was confidence manifested on his face, but it was bordering humbleness and a different facet of deviance.

**………………………………****......**

"I have a certain magnetic pull on things. I can move around information across the globe, even the most secretive ones. I can create them, efface them, tamper with them. Anything," Tim said.

"And that makes you a hacker."

"No. As you outsiders call it, that makes me a technopath. So this high-tech base? It's under my control now."

General Cook laughed. "You're delusional, Subject Three!" he said. "Those chemicals they shot up through you, they're probably affecting your brain right now."

Tim only stared at his eyes. "And I am so sorry you can't even remember anything," he said in a sympathetic, low-toned whisper. "Not even your name."

General Cook stopped laughing, although still sniggering nervously. "What?" he asked.

Tim only stared at his eyes. General Cook's grin fell into a smile. His smile quickly dropped into a slightly ajar lips. The ajar lips, in turn, formed a frown.

_I am sorry you can't remember anything…_

But he could. He could remember everything. Subject Three was just hallucinating.

_Not even your name…_

His earpiece issued a scream that obstructed his thoughts. It sent him cringing from it. However, he found no strength to move any other muscles in his body after his hands cupped over his ears absent-mindedly. It was like all signals from his brain have stopped.

_I am…Can't…name your even…am…_

"What are you doing?" he heard a muffled voice, but he couldn't place it, who the person was.

_Not…sorry…anything…I even—even…_

He felt as if his head would explode with too much pressure inside it. Something was pushing the walls of his skull to stretch, stretch, stretch when he couldn't make it happen.

_I am sorry…You can't…_

It stopped. Every pain stopped. In front of him, a young man stood, his eyes scared and guilty. He looked at him, then their eyes caught each other.

"General?" a man appeared beside him which almost made him jump. "General, sir, are you okay?"

The young man in front of him still held that terrified expression. He looked lost and caught. He felt sorry for him. "I am so sorry," the young man told him. "I didn't mean to."

"What," a middle-aged man wearing a white coat breathed, "did you do…to him." The young man didn't answer. "General Cook."

The young man was still scared. He was looking at the floor right then. "Did you…?" the white-coat asked the boy.

"I can't bring it back anymore," the boy said. "I'm sorry."

**………………………………****......**

The Control Room was silent. Tony and Ziva were still on the floor, listening in to the conversation. Gibbs and Jenny had gone closer to the window, observing Tim's and General Cook's movements.

Tony stared into nothing in particular. He wasn't sure whether to believe what he heard or not, but it still made him anxious. For a moment, he didn't know if he could save someone like Tim. He wasn't angry; it just bothered him. He looked up again to the "Lieutenant" standing by the window, when he noticed one of the soldiers near him drawing out a syringe. He was poising to stab it to the man's leg. "Abby!"

The man turned around, wary, and then spun away from the tip of the rushing needle. "What in the—" he said. As the soldiers stood up, Abby shifted back to her form. The first fist flew towards her, but it missed. She blocked it, then swung hers with exactness.

"Get them, Ziva," Tony pushed up from the floor, the frozen, brittle pieces of the chain that bound him falling behind. The two women moved with urgency, not letting the soldiers recover, while he took care of the others who came from the corner.

Gibbs elbowed the man beside him. As the latter stepped back, he drew out a gun from the holster. He used it as a shield to the other ones, causing them to back off immediately. At the corner of his eye, he saw Jenny pushing the men away before hitting them.

Then, after a short pause, an alarm blared through the whole facility. The room was showered with red light. Abby saw that one of the tech had pushed another button which had triggered it. He received a punch from Tony not long after, and it rendered him unconscious.

"What is that?" Ziva asked, searching the ceiling for the source of the noise.

"Intrusion Alert," Jenny said. "They're having the whole base locked down. In a couple of minutes, troops of soldiers will come down here."

"Go," Gibbs told them, ushering them towards the stairs. "Go! Go!" He took another sweep of the room to check if anyone was following them, but no one seemed to be moving.

As they came out to the lower room, the soldiers, Dr. Kozlov, General Cook, and Tim swiveled their heads toward them. Upon seeing them, Tim opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. He made a move to them, but weapons only shot up to their direction.

Tim swung his right hand upward, and it made the guns break apart to pieces. The soldiers scrambled to pick them up, and he took that chance to knock them out.

"We have to go," Gibbs commanded. "Break through that barrier up front," he pointed to it, "and try to look for a getaway vehicle or aircraft."

Jenny and the three ran after he finished. Gibbs stayed behind, waiting for Tim to move. The young man was looking at Dr. Kozlov, who held nothing but a serene expression. The man smiled. "Maybe another day, my boy," he nodded. "I'll take care of General Cook. Go on, now."

"I'm really sorry," Tim mumbled before catching up with his siblings.

"There won't be another day, Kozlov," Gibbs said after picking up another gun. Then he, too, proceeded to go on his way.

Nikolai Kozlov watched him run. "There are ways, Agent Gibbs. There are ways," he mumbled.

**………………………………****......**

"You are one psychopathic guy, you know that?" Tony asked Tim after backing away from the metal barrier. The spot he had touched was riddled with shelves of snow and shards of ice. Ziva asked all of them to stand back so she could blast it open.

"I can't believe you came back for me," Tim said.

"Yeah, but the murder you committed is not yet forgiven," Abby stated.

A fence of fire shot out from Ziva's arms, and it broke the fragile barrier. Dim light with violet hue flooded to their feet.

"He didn't do it, Abby," Jenny said. Abby opened her mouth. "I'll explain it later."

"Either way, memory erasing and being a techno path and successfully lying to us does not a normal, trustworthy man make," Tony said. The women walked through the big rupture on the barrier. He came next, followed by Tim then Gibbs.

"Locate a plane," Gibbs said. "At least they can't restrict us if we're airborne."

"Uh," Abby said, staring at the field in front of her with terror. "I don't think we can do that."

Gibbs saw what the skies and the landscape contained, and his nerves made alarming jumps. The clouds bore helicopters, indicating a war cry. The ground served as a host to increasing number of troops, posing unavoidable danger.

A meter away from him, the four people that had been entrusted to his care were immobile save their breathing.

They could not run anymore, he knew, and they have to confront the enemies. Once and for all, to avenge their continuous fall.

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**Reviews would be awesome! **


	14. Chapter 14

_**Author's Note: Whoo! to these people:**_

**_Fullmetal Embers: Well, I thought we should make sure that Tim is the coolest. ;) Thanks, Embers! What can my story do without you?_**

**_hildis: Oh, you are so sweet! I love all of your comments! *nods* You're also one of the few who gives life to this story. . . =)_**

**_And a Welcome Aboard to Magic Mistress and moonstruck chocolat! _**

**_Finally, it might be hard to see the italicized parts, so please bear with me. Thank you! _**

**_Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters do not belong to me. They belong to their proper owners._**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Now what?" Abby said, glaring at the herd of soldiers.

Tony and Tim exchange glances, one answer in their minds. "DPR mode," they said in unison.

Gibbs stared at the vehicles that were closing in on them. "Alright," he breathed out, handing Jenny one of the guns.

"I guess they knew what they were up against," Jenny muttered.

"Jenny and I will be on your cover," Gibbs instructed, "but we still have to get out of here." Ziva nodded. "And one more thing. Try your best not to kill these men. Half of them have no idea why they're even doing this."

"Got it, Gibbs. Save the good guys, maybe think about the bad guys," Abby said.

"Go."

Tony hooted, grinning from ear to ear. "Round one!" he proclaimed.

The group began to move towards the left. Almost at once, it generated a rain of bullets and even some tranquilizers. Ziva and Tony ran at either side, using their hands and the shield these created to protect the group. Tim rotated on his heels, ran backwards, and then made a quick upward sweeping motion with his fingers. The helicopter that was hundreds of feet above him swerved at first. After some time, it stiffly gyrated to the opposite direction, the body tilted thirty degrees to the cloud, then inched away.

Gibbs sought the whole perimeter for any snipers. So far, there was none. The soldiers on the vehicles have jumped out, running after them on foot. "They're coming," he warned the group. "Get ready for hand combat."

"Protect Tony and Ziva," Jenny added.

"No need," Tony said. He pushed out his glassed arms. A white, faint smoke came out then, as if in slow-motion, ice crept to every solid surface it came in contact with. Coldness, meanwhile, pierced through the shooters' skins, through their veins, then to their hearts, the frigid temperature slowing it down.

One by one, the men dropped down.

_She gasped. A loud, shallow gasp. She looked around the room. He was nowhere to be found. All that was there were chairs, her warm bed, and a twinkling vanity mirror. _

_"He's missing," she said. "He's not here. My baby's not here!"_

_The door opened. Yellow light poured inside her room. A tall shadow stood there, looking at her. She felt the familiar heavy load weighing in her soul then, she cried._

Ziva did the same. The weapons melted, causing its handlers to draw their hand back in pain. It gave them leverage and time; they ran further.

_"My baby's gone," she cried to him. "My baby's gone!"_

_He came and sat beside her. Then, he hugged her tightly. "Shh," he said gently, caressing her back._

_"I want my baby. I want my baby!" _

"We're not going anywhere with this," Gibbs said. "No plane in sight!"

Abby looked around. "We'll take one from them!" she responded over fire.

"How are we going to do that?" Tim yelled while willing a high frequency scream to the men's earpieces. He saw them cringe, wincing with unbearable pain, before they crashed on the ground.

Abby stopped running with them. Instead, she rushed to the opposite direction some feet away before jumping. As her feet pushed off, she morphed into a raven, soaring through the air. She flapped her wings, dodging bullets tactfully. She found a helicopter with only two people aboard.

The raven flew towards it.

_"I know, sweetheart," he told her._

_"I need him now. Please. I need him. I need my baby boy."_

The clock blinked, and one bullet hit the right side of Ziva's hips. She groaned; Tim, who was now at her side, glanced at her with horror. "Ziva!" He held her arms, supporting her in her track.

Gibbs spotted the man that shot Ziva. He raised his weapon. Zoom. The man screamed, covering the fresh wound at his leg.

Gradually, Ziva became languid. Tim squatted down, his back in front of her, and then allowed her body to fall on him. He strapped his arms to her thighs, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He heard her shallow breathing. He grew nervous. "Hold on, Ziva," he told her as they ran.

"I d-don't have any ch-choice, Tim," she stammered, smiling.

Tim felt her blood seeping through his shirt then spreading to his skin. "Shh… Save you energy. You need it," he whispered.

The raven, before landing inside the helicopter, transformed back to her former appearance. She crept cautiously behind the men, all the while searching for any solid object to effectively knock them out with. At one corner, she saw a stack of syringes, maybe tranquilizers, moving with the plane.

Perfect.

She picked up two, removed the covers, then slid the slim plastic bodies in her hand. She crept behind them again. "Hey," she said casually. Before they could look at her, she stabbed the needles at their necks. She held their shoulders so that they wouldn't fall off.

However, she felt the helicopter tilting to its side. "Uh, you guys are heavy and not helping." She tried to reel them in, but she was unsuccessful. Gravity mercilessly pulled the metal towards the ground. Her eyes roved around the panel. She noticed a familiar black button. "Let's see you save me," she muttered as she punched the button.

The blades of the aircraft stopped spinning.

"We have to wait for Abby," Tony said. "We can't keep running."

"Ziva doesn't appreciate the movement either," Tim added, smothering his own exhaustion.

"Anyone had any idea where she is?" Jenny asked, stopping in her tracks.

Gibbs searched the skies. "I'm guessing that plane," he pointed to the falling helicopter. "Tim?"

Tim focused on it, his hands clutched at his side. He watched the aircraft's blades regain speed. At the same time, he felt massive amounts of energy leaving his bones and flesh. He was having trouble with balancing Ziva on his back and keeping his stance for the helicopter.

_Closer…Closer…_he summoned it. His head began throbbing, a pressure building inside. _Come on. Closer…_

Tony issued another wave of fog as men darted to them. To his left. To his right. He was getting tired, but they had to make it out alive. Ziva needed medical attention. Tim, it appeared to him, seemed very worn out. The blood on his lips have dried out, but spots of black had begun appearing on his face.

Gibbs, on the other hand, thought of where to take the four. He was sure that Ducky did not want this to be their reality, to be shot at and shot up with. He was sure they did not and would never want this to happen. He was sure.

He was absolute that it was not the life he wanted for them either.

_"We will get him back. I promise," he said._

_"Really?"_

_"Yes, of course, darling. Now, lie back again. You'll see him tomorrow."_

Abby got off the helicopter with her legs quivering. "That was close," she condoled herself though relieved.

"Everyone get inside now," Gibbs said, stepping backwards to the aircraft.

Tim let go of Ziva carefully before scooping her up to prevent her from falling. With an extreme effort, he lifted her inside. Tony hopped inside the cockpit, grinning again as he had control. Gibbs and Jenny, with Abby going before them, allowed some rounds to go off before getting in.

"Alright, folks," Tony announced. "Destination Guesstimation, coming right up!"

It wasn't long until they were up in the skies. Gibbs continued firing to protect the aircraft, ducking from some at times, then firing again. "A bit faster, Tony!" Gibbs said as small, at high-velocity metals clunked against their helicopter.

"I'm trying, Boss. I think something's severed."

"How do we get these jerks out of our backs?" Abby asked.

Gibbs peeked out at the troops of soldiers. Think, think. He didn't want to hurt all of them, but maybe he could do something to repel their attention from them for a while.

The final light from the sun fell upon a certain place. Yes. That was it. Gibbs hid behind the walls at first. Then, he gripped on a metal attached to a seat.

"What are you doing?" Jenny asked, anxiously fixated on Gibbs' grip on the bar.

"Let go, Jenny. They'll kill us if they hit us!"

"You'll get shot."

Gibbs looked at Ziva, then Tim, then Tony, then Abby. "I can't let them die. Not like how Agent Larsen's team—his family—died. I have to keep them alive." With that, he fired again.

A clear shot to the gas tank of one of the immobile vehicles on the ground.

Boom.

They ducked. Others dove to the cement. Time. They had bought time.

He glanced at Tim whose hands were on their helicopter's floor. The young man seemed dizzy, but his closed eyes helped him concentrate on whatever he was doing. Speed. The aircraft gained speed. Almost like a jet's.

The collision of metals have stopped, except for occasional taps on indistinct sides. Silence have settled in. Gibbs hoped that peace would come also. Gradually, he withdrew inside the helicopter.

Zoom.

Gibbs felt something claw in his left shoulder, maybe even his chest. It made him sick and want to throw up. His sight dimmed. Someone pulled him in. Blood. Blood everywhere. Who's blood? Ziva's blood?

Darkness. Darkness ate him.

_"But it had been years. I haven't seen him in years!" she wept again. "All I want is to hold him again. In my arms. I want to see his green eyes again. Oh, he was very cute. He's my darling angel. My sweet, sweet angel."_

_"Sweetheart, I will make sure you'll see him again."_

_She looked at his eyes. He was sincere, like that moon that she have always watched every night. "You'll find my baby for me?" she asked hopefully._

_"Yes."_

_"Even if the man that took him gets mad at you?"_

_"Yes."_

_She nodded. "He's my baby, did you know that? He was my darling, darling angel."_

_"Yes. Darling angel."_

_"I don't care if the doctor said he's different. He's still my baby."_

_"Yes. Still your baby."_

_"And I love him," she said. She took out a folded picture of her baby, all grown up now._

_"Yes. You love him."_

_"He is handsome. Very handsome. He's my baby. I will find him and I will take him. Even if it means my death."_

_"Yes," a sly smirk sluggishly stretched on his lips. "Your death."_

* * *

**C'mon, folks! We're near the end (or are we? ;) )! Click the green button down this chapter! *yes!***


	15. Chapter 15

**_Disclaimer:__ NCIS and its characters do not belong to me. All I ever owned were the story of this fic and the OCs, so please, DON'T SUE ME!_**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

_Guest Room at Shepard's Rest House_

_Savannah, Tennessee_

_7:16 AM_

"Ooh! Jenny, Jenny! I think he's waking up!"

"Abby. Indoor voices. We have three patients in this house?"

"Oh, right. Sorry."

Gibbs slightly opened his eyes while shifting a bit to his side. He groaned when pain pierced through his chest. He felt soft, slender fingers pushing him gently back to the bed. "No, Jethro," Jenny quietly said. "Don't move. Stay in bed."

Gibbs attempted to open his eyes once more. As he relaxed, he saw Abby standing beside Jenny, waving at him with a big grin on her face. At his periphery, he noticed someone else standing in the room with them. He turned his head slowly, and saw Tony leaning on the wall. "Hiya, Boss," Tony greeted with a smile.

The pain had not completely gone away, but his breathing seemed to be helping. He swallowed before opening his mouth. "Where's…where's Tim and Ziva?" he asked Jenny.

"In their own rooms, resting up like you," Jenny smiled.

"Where are we?"

"We're at Jenny's house!"

"Abby."

"We're at Jenny's house," she whispered. "Well, we're at their rest house. We're in Tennessee right now, and it's beautiful out there, Gibbs. It's like paradise!"

Gibbs saw a twinkle in Abby's eyes that he was certain he have never seen before. He glanced at Tony, who was staring out the window parallel to him, and he saw it in his eyes also. It was as if they were content and at peace with themselves and with everybody. It was as if they have redeemed the things they have lost after the storm. He noticed the sun shining brightly also, and the clouds that rolled by seemed to tell him that he should not worry anymore. He glanced at Jenny, and their eyes caught each other. "I'm glad you like it here," Gibbs said.

"You know, they have this lake nearby that's so gorgeous. You should get well soon so you can go with us," Abby said.

Gibbs nodded. When he looked at his left arm, he noticed gauze wrapped around his torso and a big patch of cotton at one spot. Right, he thought. He was shot. He frowned. "You didn't get us to a…" he trailed off.

"Hospital?" Jenny asked. "No. Too many eyes there. I called Doctor Darley. He's a family friend and he agreed to keep quiet about all of you." Jenny chuckled. "He said he doesn't support those greedy imperialist pigs anyways, so we're okay. He took care of your shot and Ziva's. He's taking care of Tim also."

"After we got here at the house, he collapsed at the door," Tony supplemented. "Doctor Darley said that he had been shot up with weird chemicals. Some of them were poisonous, but for some reason techno-guy's body didn't give in. He said that he was also very tired that his brain just shut down."

"Ziva's doing good, too," Abby said. "She hadn't waken up yet, but she's going to be alright. And she looks a-okay, just asleep."

"Tim doesn't," Tony chuckled. Jenny darted a sharp glare at him. He dropped the smile when he remembered he wasn't suppose to worry Gibbs. "But that's not the point," he mended.

"How did we get here?" Gibbs asked. "The chopper?"

"Yeah…" Tony said. "You can say that."

"Okay, you two. I think Zelda's finished with the breakfast," Jenny opened the door for them. "Go ahead and eat."

"Nice," Tony said as he walked out of the room. "Later, Boss."

"Bye, Gibbs," Abby kissed him on the forehead. "I'll try not to eat all of the toasts so you could have some."

"Okay," he laughed quietly.

Jenny waited until the two were out of earshot. "I'll come back with your breakfast," she said.

"Jenny?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for saving them, us," Gibbs said. "I couldn't have done this without you."

Jenny shook her head. "I helped you, Jethro," she corrected him. "_You _saved them. I know they'll be thanking you. I appreciated what you did also, so thank you." With that, she left.

Gibbs stared at the door a little while longer before looking out the window. The sun had ascended farther up, and blue clouds have begun frolicking at the pool of blue above. The wind brought a story of what that day would be, while some birds sang. He closed his eyes.

_You rescued them, Jethro. You did all of that for four people you didn't know, _Ducky seemed to tell him.

_I still don't get why you chose me, Duck. You know I'm prone to dying, _Gibbs said.

Ducky laughed. _But I knew you wouldn't, _he answered. He sighed.

_Thanks, _he thought. "Thanks for my team," he said softly before falling back to sleep.

**………………………………****......**

"So Cook is gone. Poor guy don't remember anything."

"We have to find someone better."

"Lay low for a while?"

"That is the best step to take if we want our children back, yes?"

"I can lead this time. My boy won't say no to me, I don't think. Plus, Angel wants to see him. She really misses him."

"She still thinks Doctor Mallard took her baby?"

"Yes."

"I need to see my Ziva, too."

"You miss your daughter?"

"No. Not exactly. It's just that she would be helpful for Mossad."

"I need to see Abigail, too."

"You need her for something, Rachel?"

"No. I actually want to see her. What about you DiNozzo?"

"I don't really care. One of you can take him."

"You're not planning to sell him?"

"No. He's alright on his own. Why bother him?"

Rachel Sciuto sighed. "Too much indifference for your son," he told Anthony DiNozzo Sr. "It'll bite you on the backside someday."

"Sure."

"When are we going to take them back?" Eli David asked.

"Give them some time to enjoy themselves. Give them a bit of space. After that," General Connor McGee leaned forward, looking at everyone's faces, "we steal them back."

* * *

_**First of all, thank you to the following people!**_

**_Fullmetal Embers: Thanks so much for always reviewing, Embers! You're the best! From Chapter 2 until here! I hug you! =D_**

**_bertlover: Thank you so much! Thanks for reading!_**

**_Mytana: Oh, I know. I guess they...forgot? I don't know. But you're so sweet nonetheless, and thank you for reading this small story of mine. . . *hug!*_**

**_hildis: Sorry I faltered for a day. I got sick. But I'm updating right now for all of you! You are such a lovely reviewer. Thank you. *hug for you, too!*_**

**_lynneanne: Thank you, kind miss. . .*blushes* Thanks for reading!_**

**_And a big thanks to all of those who came and went in the reviews page! I still hug you guys! Creepiness removed! =)_**

**_Finally, I am brewing up a sequel for this story since I loved writing it. I hope to hear from you guys on the next one! Thank you guys again, and have a wonderful weekend!_**

**_-musicnotes093XD_**


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